


(Give Me A Chance To) Prove It To You

by penelopeparkman



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Penelope has a brother, also a few friends from her witch school, her parents are here too, post 1x14
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2019-11-23 19:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penelopeparkman/pseuds/penelopeparkman
Summary: “Mom, finally!” an exasperated voice blares from the other end of the line. Penelope jumps slightly, before her eyes widen. She knows that godforsaken haughty tone, which just means—“Lizzie, don’t yell.” There it is. That soft yet firm voice. It’s like music to her ears after 7 months of depravation. Josie. Suddenly, Penelope’s heart rate increases with just those three words. And with the amused smirk playing on Caroline’s mouth, she’s sure the vampire had already picked up on her flustered knee-jerk reaction.or7 months after Penelope left Salvatore, she's now with Caroline in Belgium, still looking for a loophole to the merge, when the Saltzman twins decide to pay their mother a visit.





	1. Swearing out the beating in my chest.

**CHAPTER 1 – Swearing out the beating in my chest.**

Penelope slumps onto the passenger seat. A slight throbbing was slowly but surely assaulting her head. To make matters worse, she just knew she’d get a good talking to from her mom at the sight of the nasty cut on her lip, later on.

“Stupid lying bloodsucker.” She mutters dejectedly under her breath. Still fuming at yet another failed lead, she doesn’t notice when the other side of the car door opens and closes, her blonde companion, far less bruised but equally as pissed settling into the driver’s seat.

Caroline Forbes, the mother of the girl she loves, turns to her with disapproving eyes.

“What did I say, Penelope?”

Penelope groans, bracing for impact. “Don’t engage unless you say so.”

“And what did you do?” Caroline asks in almost a patronizing tone that makes Penelope wince. She couldn’t exactly blame the older vampire though. Fine, she may have overreacted when she realized that the shady French guy who had promised them a solution to the merge actually just wanted them to become his afternoon cup of tea.

“Nothing wannabe-twilight didn’t already have coming.”

“You almost blew his head off!” Caroline snaps incredulously.

“How was I supposed to know he had back-up?”

“You don’t. You keep a cool head, and take caution. Always. What if I wasn’t there?”

“I’d blow _all_ of their heads off,” she answers with a smirk pulling at the cut on her lip.

Penelope expects the adult to retaliate with a sensible scolding, but Caroline only shakes her head and starts to drive off onto the road, a defeated silence enveloping the two.

Penelope was used to it by now. The feeling of utter loss taunting them after, once again, coming up empty-handed with a solution to the day they were both dreading. _The merge._ She’s also so used to the familiar twinge at her chest at the thought, that the pain felt like routine at this point. Then again Penelope had only been actively at this for 6 months. She can only imagine how Caroline feels, after spending years away from her twins. Not getting to see them grow up on her watch, in a bid to save their lives, must be absolute torture. Penelope decides not to give her a hard time for now.

After what felt like 20 minutes of nothing but quiet, and the dirt path finally giving way to bustling city streets, Caroline finally speaks. “I know you’re frustrated, but I won’t let you stoop that low.” Penelope doesn’t expect this. She also doesn’t know what she means. She just raises her brow in question.

“I don’t want you to know what it feels like to have blood on your hands.” Penelope thinks Caroline pauses for effect. “A life, in _your_ hands,” she finishes. “You’re too young to carry that kind of pain.”

Penelope all but scoffs at this. They lived in a world where less than pleasant supernatural creatures like them lurked at every corner, ready to pounce at their next snack. Penelope would rather not use her magic to fight but if the situation called for it, she knew, at some point, that having to kill someone was far more likely to happen in her lifetime than the opposite. Besides she was doing this for her. _For Josie_. There was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do, no blood she wouldn’t spill if it meant that Josie could live a long happy life past 22. Even if that life didn’t include her, or her bloodied up hand.

“You don’t get it.” Penelope says. “I would give up all sense of sanity if it’s the only way to save Josie from this idiotic, barbaric tradition.” She declares with utmost certainty.

It takes Caroline a second to answer, but the sudden soft tone shift is still a bit jarring.

“Because you love my daughter.” Caroline only replies with a resigned sigh, as if stating an unquestionable fact that god himself had set. “Trust me. I get it.”

The vampire offers Penelope a soft smile. “The crazy things we do for love.”

Penelope silently answers with her own, before staring out the window. She’s not shy about her feelings for a certain tall brunette. Not even when it’s the said girl’s mother. Everybody who has ever met her, and will ever meet her, knew that her heart was already spoken for, much to the dismay of almost half the witches at her new school.

Besides, practically declaring her undying love for Caroline’s daughter was the only way she could get the vampire to agree to letting her help. She still remembers the two of them staging a battle of wills, waiting for the other to concede, when she randomly showed up unannounced at Caroline’s doorstep almost 6 months ago. She won. Of course, she did. She’d always win for Josie.

The comfortable silence continues for a short while until--

“But still. No killing people, vampires, werewolves, or any other kind of potentially dangerous supernatural being. Unless I say so.” Caroline suddenly says. “Got it?” She finishes pointedly, as if she only just remembered, ten minutes after, that she still had to be the responsible adult between them. She tugs at her denim jacket, trying to prove a point.

Penelope simply chuckles, gives her a two-finger salute. “Aye, aye captain.”

Just then, Caroline’s phone blares out with an annoying 2000s pop song that sounded vaguely of Gwen Stefani’s ‘Rich Girl.’ Penelope can’t help but scrunch her nose at the sound.

“What? It’s catchy.” Caroline defends, moving to answer the call.

“Has anyone ever told you not to use your phone while driving?” Penelope says rather jokingly. “So much for being the responsible role model.”

This time it’s Caroline’s turn to roll her eyes. “Hold your horses, Nanny McPhee. I’ll put it on speaker.” Penelope grins in victory. She loves winning.

Caroline presses the call button.

“Hel-“

“Mom, finally!” an exasperated voice blares from the other end of the line. Penelope jumps slightly, before her eyes widen. She knows that godforsaken haughty tone, which just means—

“Lizzie, don’t yell.” There it is. That soft yet firm voice. It’s like music to her ears after 7 months of depravation. Josie. Suddenly, Penelope’s heart rate increases with just those three words. And with the amused smirk playing on Caroline’s mouth, she’s sure the vampire had already picked up on her flustered knee-jerk reaction.

“My girls!” Caroline almost coos. “Oh, I miss you both so much.”

“We miss you too, mom” the twins say at the same time.

“How are you? How’s everything?”

“Well—” Lizzie starts. Penelope rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut. Technically, she’s not supposed to be in the car right now as far as the twins know. “we have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? I love surprises!” Penelope has to cover her mouth from laughing at how childlike the big bad blonde vampire sounded.

“We’re coming to visit you!” Lizzie all but yells again.

Caroline pales and her jaw drops. Penelope’s eyes widen even further with panic. They’re about to turn the curve leading to Caroline’s apartment building when she abruptly steps on the break, almost flinging them both onto the window shield. For once in her life, Penelope’s actually glad she wore a seatbelt.

“You--you are?” Caroline says with the most faux excited tone she can muster.

“Yeah, in Paris!” Lizzie continues. “We could go shopping, talk about boys, and…" she sounds chipper. Penelope didn't expect that. Not after everything.

“Oh,” Caroline says. The two women in the car breathe out in unprecedented relief as Lizzie riddles on about her dream vacation.

“You don’t sound too excited?” Josie chimes in. Penelope wants to turn the volume up on Caroline’s phone by a hundred.

“Please tell me you’re not there yet.” Caroline says apologetically.

“We’re still in school, mom. Dad’s about to buy the tickets though.” Josie replies steadily.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want us there?” A more frantic Lizzie questions. Penelope can’t tell if she’s annoyed or angry, or both. Knowing Lizzie, she settles for both. Caroline starts driving again after a few impatient cars honk at her from behind.

“No-no, honestly, it’s not that. Of course, I want to see you girls for the break.” Caroline appeases her daughter quickly. “There’s nothing I’d want more. It’s just that…well…I’m not in Paris anymore. You know, with these recruiting missions, I can never stay put.”

“We know,” the twins simultaneously say again. There’s a certain lilt to their tone that Penelope can’t quite place.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. We’ll just tell dad to buy us a flight to wherever you are.” Lizzie says.

“If that’s ok with you, of course.” Josie seconds.

 _Always the considerate one_ , Penelope thinks.

“Of course, it is. Why would you even ask that, honey?”

Caroline looks to Penelope. Her face both an apology and a question. Penelope doesn’t understand why. It’s not like she could stop Caroline from seeing her own children, or vise versa, so she just shrugs her shoulders as if to convey _this isn’t any of my business_.

“Alright, girls. Tell your dad to get you the next flight out to Antwerp, instead.”

“Antwerp?” Lizzie says, she can hear the confused scowl that must be forming on the blonde's face.

“Wait--” Josie interrupts. There’s a strain to the brunette's voice that hurts Penelope.

A beat.

She can practically hear the gears in Josie’s head turning. The anticipation raps at her chest. “You mean, you’re in Belgium?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

A miniscule “Oh” comes out from Josie’s lips. It reaches Penelope’s ears from the other side of the world and she just wants to snatch it up and put it in her pocket.

“Is something wrong, honey?” Caroline asks. She knows damn well why Josie would react that way, but still, she does so for good measure.

“Nothing!” Josie squeaks a little to frenziedly. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would anything be wrong. See you in a few hours, mom. I’m so sorry I have to go. I just remembered I have homework to do.”

“But we’re on break.” Lizzie points out.

“Bye.”

Before Caroline can even get a word in, they hear hurried footsteps echoing from the hardwood floors of Alaric’s office. A door slams shut, and Penelope sinks to the bottom of her seat, covering her head with her palm. She hates this. Judging from Josie’s reaction, the other girl probably resents her (even more than she already did) for leaving so quickly, right after dropping that huge bomb on her life, and is dreading even the slightest chance at somehow magically bumping into her, no matter the relative size of Belgium.

“That was weird.” Lizzie says. And suddenly, Penelope fumes with anger at how insensitive Lizzie truly is to her sister’s feelings. She’s not exactly sure what went down after she left and the twins finally unearthed their parents’ grim secret, but from the sound of it, it seems like her least favorite twin hasn’t changed a bit. She can’t quite grasp how that’s possible, but before she can open her mouth with insults and inevitably reveal herself, she feels a hand on her shoulder holding her down, as if to say ‘ _not now_.’ Looking to Caroline who has her eyes trained on her phone, all Penelope sees is a mother fondly missing her daughters.

“Talk to your sister, Lizzie. Please. I’ll see you soon.”

Lizzie sighs. “I’m sorry.” Wait what? Penelope didn’t expect the apology to come so quickly. “I will, mom. See you.”

“I love you both.”

“We love you too.”

They hear the phone click, and only then does Penelope realize that they’ve been sitting in the apartment building’s parking lot for the past few minutes. She lets out an involuntary shaky breath that she didn’t even know she was holding, receiving a warm sympathetic look from Caroline, who knows not to say anything just yet.

“Guess I’ll have to pack my things first huh?” is all she ends up saying, her voice unusually hoarse. Although she’s quite certain it’s because she misses Josie so damn much, her chest feels like a dumpster fire on crack.

Caroline just nods. Right now, she doesn’t know how to appease the teenager’s fast beating heart. She’s worried it just might run out of Penelope’s chest at the rate it’s going.

 _Young love_ , Caroline thinks. _God, help them_.

\------------------------------------------------------

She had emptied out her room at lightning speed, or at least the one she had been borrowing at Caroline’s apartment for long school breaks like this. Then again, there wasn’t really much to pack. Much of her stuff were boxed, still at home, while some of them were in her dorm room in her all-witch school. What she had left, she had brought here. Just a few changes of clothes, books to distract her, and two small picture frames. One of her family, and one of her and Josie from back when they were together. They were laying on Penelope’s bed, Josie peacefully sleeping on Penelope’s chest, memories of better times. She can’t do anything else but drink in the photo in her hand now, Josie’s voice still ringing in her head. Her curt good bye to her mom from earlier, like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough, mocks Penelope like a broken record.

Finally, she gets herself to stash the photo into her bag, carefully, of course, and zips it closed. Penelope takes a final sweep around the room, making sure it’s completely clean, no random sock, unruly ribbon, no trace of her in sight. Just like how Josie would want it. Then again, she hopes Caroline’s smart enough not to give Josie this room when the twins arrive. She’s sure there are two more vacant rooms that would better suit the brunette.

She finds Caroline in the kitchen, gingerly sipping at a glass of blood, when Penelope comes out of the room with her one packed weekender bag. The blonde lifts up her head at the sound of approaching footsteps and offers her drink to Penelope. “Want some?” she says cheekily. “Just kidding. Here,” she picks up the glass of orange juice on the counter.

Penelope takes it, she furrows her brows in the process. “Ever the comedian, huh?”

Caroline sets down her glass. “You okay? You seemed a bit flustered earlier.” She points out without preamble.

Penelope just shrugs it off and says “It’s Josie.” Hoping it was good enough of an answer.

Caroline nods in understanding.

She isn’t sure when her relationship with her ex’s mom turned from uncomfortable car rides to an unknown location, to quiet supportive sighs under the too bright lighting of Caroline’s kitchen. Maybe it’s the weight of the situation they’re in, or the shared frustration and disappointment with each passing hopeless lead that comes their way. Either way, Penelope appreciates the shift. She never knew she could be at muddled peace with a vampire. Let alone Josie’s mother of all people, but here they were.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming home?” Caroline asks.

Penelope shrugs. “Actually, this couldn’t have happened at a better time. They really are expecting me home. Mom’s throwing a party in two days.”

“A party?”

“You know, like one of those charity galas.”

“Didn’t she just have one like 3 months ago?”

“Oh, that was just a regular party. You know, the one where she shows off how powerful and rich she is.”

“As opposed to this one?”

“This one’s to flaunt her perfect little philanthropic family. Read this: we’re the Parks, and we care!” Penelope waves through the air with her open hand. There’s no masking the annoyance in her voice.

“What, does your mom plan on running for prime minister of Belgium or something?”

Penelope doesn’t answer, just sips at her tangy drink.

“Seriously?”

“I can never tell with her.”

Caroline really doesn’t have anything to say to that.

A short beat passes with the two women just standing there, taking in their respective glasses.

“Oh no, that won’t do!” Caroline says, cutting through the silence so off-handedly that Penelope almost spills her orange juice.

“What won’t?”

“That huge ass cut on your lip. Oh my god, your mom’s gonna have a field day with me!” Caroline groans. Penelope reaches up at the mentioned anomaly, wincing at the unexpected pain. She had forgotten all about it with the rush of the twins’ phone call.

“It’s okay, Ms. Forbes. I’ll just use a healing spell on it.”

“Are you sure? I have betadine.” It was a weird thing to hear from a vampire who can self-heal.

“Yeah, I think my magic will do just fine,” she concedes. “When are they arriving?” Penelope tries to ask with total nonchalance. It barely follows through.

“I’m picking them up tomorrow afternoon.”

“You must be thrilled.”

“Obviously.” Caroline says with gleaming eyes, but it’s gone seconds later, and instead, she leans on the counter top, towards Penelope, her hands now intertwined, eyes squinted in seeming deep interest. “But we already knew that. How about we talk about you and _your_ feelings?”

Nope.

“Well, I’m off!” Penelope turns abruptly. As much as she appreciates the woman’s concern, she’s not quite ready to think about what she would do or say if she saw Josie again. Just the mere fact that the two of them would just be a drive away from each other in a few hours, hasn’t even sunken in yet.

“Penelope.” Caroline tries.

“Thank you, Ms. Forbes, and I’m sorry about earlier. I’ll see you in a few weeks, I guess.” Penelope hurriedly opens the door.

“Hold on!” The vampire’s firm tone is enough to stop her in her tracks. You can’t deny, the ostensibly barbie-looking princess can be quite terrifying when she wanted to. She rounds the counter and walks towards the restless witch.

“What are you going to do when Josie gets here, and she decides she wants to look for you? You’re not planning on hiding from her are you?” Penelope can practically see the protective mother slowly creeping into Caroline’s fixed stance, back straight, arms crossed, all kinds of intimidating. “I mean, you were the one who tipped her off about the merge. Which, by the way, I’m still pissed about.”

“I won’t be hiding. I’ll just be at home.”

“I’m serious.”

“Why does it matter? From the way she sounded earlier, I’m the last person she’d want to bump into.” Penelope says, fighting hard to keep her bubbling emotions at bay.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” she takes an unsteady deep breath, hating how desperate the next words that come out of her mouth sound. “I told her I loved her. Twice. And she just stood there. Up until that moment I hadn’t given up on looking for a reason to stay.” Her voice cracks only slightly. She doesn’t exactly know what she had waited for in the moment. She didn’t need Josie to say it back, she knew she wouldn’t. Asking her to stay wouldn’t have worked either unless the other girl promised to actually try and put herself first for once. All she knows right now is that she just wants to end this conversation already. “But nothing came.”

Caroline is looking at her with pity now and Penelope absolutely abhors the thought, hates herself for letting her walls come down so quick.

The vampire purses her lips. “So why’d you show up at my door 6 months ago?” she continues to prod, gently now, as if she’d break Penelope in some way with just the wrong question. Penelope hopes she’d stop asking at all. “Why did you fight your way into all of these dangerous missions, risking your life, just to find a loophole to the merge, if you’re so sure Josie doesn’t feel the same way you do? Why not just stay in your new school, and leave it at that? Maybe have a grand, happy life as the future prime minister’s daughter.”

The young witch is taken aback at that. She simply shakes her head and ignores the subtle jab at her mother. The answer should be obvious right? To a vampire who’s seen so much and gone through hell and back for the people she cared about, it should be obvious. She shouldn’t have to say it out loud.

But she does anyway.

“Because true love never asks to be loved back.”

Caroline doesn’t answer after that.

She doesn’t have to. _This kid_ , she thinks, _how is she just seventeen?_

They simply exchange yet another one of their understanding sighs before Penelope leaves with a forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll be back, Ms. Forbes.”

Caroline gives her a soft smile. “I have no doubts about it, dear,” she says.

Then, remembering “Oh and don’t forget to spell that cut away.”

Penelope manages a small chuckle “Yes, ma’am.”

The door closes shut behind the witch.

With one deep breath, Caroline starts cleaning the place, getting ready for Josie and Lizzie’s arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come cry with me on Twitter @brigantariksas
> 
> A few things:
> 
> -how the twins reacted to the merge and how it affected their family will be mentioned in the future.  
> -the titles of the chapter are based off of depressing songs that remind me of Posie post 1x14. The title in this one is from The Distance by Jesse Barrera.  
> -all i do is breakdown now I hate it.


	2. It can make you feel you're bulletproof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for the flood of kind comments both here and on twitter. I truly did not expect that. So thank you with all my happy heart (or at least what's left of it after Penelope left school. Seriously, bring her back!)
> 
> Secondly, I had planned this to be a Posie fic through and through but since most of you wanted to see more of Caroline and Penelope's dynamic, I'm throwing in a few flashback chapters.
> 
> Admittedly it's a bit rushed. I just wanted to get this out before work consumes me this week. I hope you still like it all the same.
> 
> We go back to real time next week for the next chapter.

**CHAPTER 2 – It can make you feel you’re bulletproof.**

 

6 months ago.

 

Penelope arrives at Caroline’s doorstep at five in the afternoon on a Saturday. It had been exactly three days since her and her family settled into their new home in Antwerp. Penelope never believed in luck, but she’d chalk this up to nothing but just that. The vampire had come to the same city as her family. Penelope was convinced that it was a sign. She had to do this. Well, luck, and the fact that there was a crazy concentration of magic emanating from the city, probably because of the witch school hidden in plain sight just three towns over. 

After what feels like five minutes of anxiously staring at the red, worn down door, Penelope gathers her hand into a fist and raises it to knock. She’s not going to take no for answer, she reminds herself. However, before slightly shaking knuckles meet wood, a confused voice chimes in from behind her. 

“Can I help you?”

A guarded sweetness. Penelope had never really formally met Josie’s mom but she remembers that voice from one of the few assemblies that the vampire had led. Penelope turns around with a sheepish grin. 

“Hi, I—”  In a snap, she has the wind knocked out of her. Before she knows it, Penelope’s being thrown back onto a chair and the estranged headmistress of the Salvatore school is pointing a shotgun at her head.

“Woah, woah, calm down, vampire Barbie!” Penelope panics. She regrets the nickname the moment it comes of out her mouth. “I mean—”

“What did you just call me?” Caroline’s eyes narrow, she cocks the shotgun once. Penelope swears she can see the veins around the vampire’s eyes start to protrude 

“I’m sorry, but is this really a way to treat your student?” Penelope says, not the least bit scared, quite frankly.

“Student?”

“Well, former student. But still…”

“Who are you?” the growl in Caroline’s question almost makes her think she’s dying today. Almost.  It also makes Penelope wince.

Sure, her and Josie were only formally together for about eight months, but Penelope had assumed their relationship meant enough to the brunette for her to at least mention Penelope to her own mother, at least once. After all, Penelope’s parents had certainly heard all about Josie Saltzman, the sunshine siphoner, the girl she was ‘head over heels’ for, as her older brother had so obnoxiously put it. The opposite never truly occurred to her until now, staring down the barrel of a gun.

She hides the stinging sensation with feigned sarcasm, instead. “You mean Josie’s never told you about me?” she places her hand to her chest, “I’m wounded!”

“Josie? Why would—” suddenly, as if a switch goes off on her Caroline’s head, her mouth falls open in a soundless ‘o’. Penelope sees the blonde’s hold on the gun lower, if only slightly. Caroline approaches the younger girl, weapon still cautiously pointed at her.

Almost like a child being examined by a doctor, Caroline cups Penelope’s chin with her free hand, while seemingly eyeing every angle of her face. She then starts to point out a few obvious things slowly, like she’s ticking off a list for her diagnosis. “Jet black raven hair, nose ring, piercing green eyes that sparkle under the—” in a gust of wind, Caroline slides opens the blinds, letting the afternoon sunlight filter in, before appearing in front of Penelope again with empty hands. She’s now staring at the witch’s eyes intently 

The gun may be gone, but Penelope doesn’t dare move under the vampire’s commanding glare. A glare that which unexpectedly shifts into amusement so fast, it gives the young witch whiplash.

“Huh, what do you know,” Caroline says in childlike wonder. “They do sparkle.”

To say Penelope was confused was an understatement. A whispered “Excuse me?” is all she manages.

Caroline snaps out of scrutinizing the younger girl in front of her. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, honey. Of course, you’re Penelope Park. Josie’s—”  Caroline falters. The witch raises a brow, willing her to finish the sentence. “I don’t really know what you are to my daughter right now.”

Penelope can’t help but scoff “You and me both.” She sits up properly without a gun threatening her body.

“Right. I was told you’d be transferring here. Sorry for going at you like that. I've been a little...on edge, lately." Caroline rubs the back of her neck, embarrassed.

"Sure."

"But hold on, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your new school?”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“At your dorms then.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “I don’t start until Monday.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re here. And how did you find me?”

The raven-haired girl stands upright, smooths down her jacket in the process, arms akimbo. 

“I’m here to help. Oh, and I have my ways.” Penelope smirks. She wasn’t about to reveal her grand magical pen scheme. She does plan on returning after all, but not without a solution to The Merge in tow. 

“Help with what exactly?” Caroline asks, faux innocence. Her lips pull up in a taut smile.

“With your big quest. To find a loophole to The Merge.” The witch says matter-of-factly. 

Caroline doesn’t expect this. It’s clear in the way she opens and closes her mouth, and nothing comes out. Penelope thinks she has the upper-hand so she acts quickly.

“Before you say no, I have resources. Ancient books and grimoires preserved by my family for generations." She sees Caroline's eyes slowly bug over at her words, but she doesn't let this stop her. "They’re just in my car I can get them. I haven’t looked over anything but—”

“Stop. No.” Caroline interrupts in a sudden stern tone. Her fake smile washed away by a growing scowl.

“But—”

“I am trying to be as polite as possible, Penelope Park.” Caroline says slowly. “Please. Leave. Now”

For a second, Penelope is too intimidated to speak. But then she remembers why she’s here in the first place. She will not be scared off by vampire Barbie.

“Absolutely not!” Penelope stands her ground. She had expected rejection, practiced for it even. She wasn’t leaving without a fight.

Caroline shuts her eyes tight and breathes through her nose, as if it’s taking everything in her not to just throw Penelope out with her, no doubt, superior vampire strength. 

“Listen, kid, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“What don’t I know?” Penelope starts, she takes slow, calculated steps towards Caroline as she tries to prove her point. “Your darling daughters are part of the Gemini coven. They’re cursed. By the age of 22 they’ll have to fight each other, until one dies and the other absorbs her powers. And you…you’ve been desperately looking for a way to stop it for the past few years. With failed results from the looks of it.” 

Penelope’s sure she’s stepped on a button or two because Caroline’s practically seething by now. Penelope swallows down her nerves. She has to stay resilient. For Josie.

“You’re threading on thin ice, kid. Leave now, before I have to force you out.” Caroline orders, with surprising restraint. Penelope ignores the fact that she just got called 'kid' for the second time.

Two can play at that game.

“I said no, vampire Barbie.” Penelope counters through gritted teeth. They’re almost toe-to-toe now, the air around the room feels thick with building frustration from both ends.

To the witch’s surprise, Caroline’s the first to back down. One glance at the wall clock behind Penelope’s head, and she’s huffing in exasperation before walking back to grab the shotgun on the coffee table. Penelope tenses, braces herself for a spell, but before she can even think of one, the vampire’s already opening the door. 

“I don’t have time for this. You better be gone when I come back. Got it?” Caroline says pointedly with finality. She slams door shut, leaving a perplexed Penelope standing in the middle of her apartment.

“What the hell?”

 

\-----------------------

 

To no surprise of her own, the adult’s threat does nothing to Penelope’s resolve. She places a cloaking spell on her car and follows Caroline for 30 minutes down an unsuspecting cul de sac. Before she knows it, the afternoon trades in for the night while Penelope waits for the vampire to come out of the house. She suspects Caroline can handle herself anyway.

She’s tapping away on the steering wheel, 15 minutes later, when a window shatters. Guess she can’t handle herself after all. Penelope takes this as a cue to go all superhero.

With a silencing spell, the witch sneaks into the backdoor of the house, and quietly tiptoes into the kitchen, where she finds Caroline doubled over in pain, hands on her temples.

“Oh shit!” she releases her cloaking spell and kneels over to the vampire who’s groaning in pain. Suddenly, a barrage of hushed, irate whispers flood into Penelope’s head. Except they don’t hurt her. 

“They’re angry. They don’t want you here anymore.”

“You think?” Caroline lets out another pained scream. She's too busy having her vessels popped over and over to even scold Penelope for following her.

“Come on.” Penelope lifts the vampire by the arm and guides her out the house without much fight from the witches in her head. When they reach the backyard, Caroline collapses on her knees while trying desperately to catch her breath.

“Stay here.” Penelope says.

“What are you—”

Before Caroline can stop her, the witch enters the house once more.

Caroline waits in stunned silence, her head still pounding, until Penelope comes back out minutes later with a bloodied napkin pressed to her hand.

“What did you do?” the vampire questions. 

“What did _I_ do? What did _you_ do to piss off that many dead witches? In a freaking cul de sac!” 

Caroline stands, slowly regaining her strength now.

“Hey, I came in peace.” Caroline defends.

“Let me guess, you threatened them when they refused to help.” Penelope deadpans.

“It’s none of your business you meddling, stubborn…”

“Obnoxious, selfish, evil. Yeah, yeah I’ve heard that already.” Penelope says with calm nonchalance as she tightens the napkin tied on her hand. “Good thing I apologized for you…” she finishes the knot, holds up the offended hand before the vampire. “Or they would have haunted you in your sleep.”

For a second, she thinks Caroline might actually say thank you, except Penelope is reminded of Josie and Lizzie’s stubbornness and where it truly came from.

“I thought I told you to go home.” The blonde turns on her heels and starts walking off the property. Penelope follows, or more like stomps, after her.

“Good thing I didn’t." 

"How did you even find out about all this?"

"I told you, I have my ways."

Caroline's so vexed by this vague answer that she decides to leave it for now.

“I don’t need your help.” 

“That’s not what I saw.”

“Enough, Penelope!”  Caroline spins abruptly towards the young witch. But instead of the angry blood shot vampire eyes, and black veins she’s expecting, Penelope’s greeted with a tired pleading look.

“Look, I appreciate you pacifying some crazy dead witches on my behalf, but despite Josie’s endless stories, I barely know you. You can’t just suddenly show up and expect me to be okay with you risking your life for my kids. You saw how dangerous this can get.” Caroline reasons with an almost pained exasperation. Penelope notes how her shoulders slump in exhaustion as well.

Penelope mulls over her next words before she speaks. “You’re right,” she starts. “You barely know me. I’m just the girl who broke your daughter’s heart. I can’t expect you to understand why I can’t just spend the next six years sitting pretty on my ass when I know I can do something to save her. God, to save both of them, even.”

They take this in.

The silence of the night dawns on the two girls before Caroline speaks ever so quietly.

“You could die,” she says in a hushed tone. “At any given moment.”

Penelope just shrugs. “I don’t care.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

Caroline turns her head to side, as if really seeing the raven-haired witch for the first time. Suddenly, she’s looking at Penelope with so much pity, the younger girl can’t help but feel offended.

“Oh, honey.” Caroline breathes with a sad smile. “The best thing you can do for Josie right now is to go home.”

With that, Caroline ambles towards her own car and drives off.

Penelope tries to quench the frustration in her chest. She’s used to always being in control of her emotions, it’s the one thing that’s always gotten her the upper-hand on all the other witches back in Salvatore. This time though, she lets three street lights explode before she moves from her spot on the grass.

 

\------------------

 

Penelope finally wears out Caroline on a Tuesday, without exactly meaning to. The minute her Chemistry of Magic class ended, she sprinted out of her new school, making sure to avoid her roommates who seemed to be on a baffling quest to befriend her, much to her annoyance. She had better things to do than stage polite conversations.

She’s standing in front of Caroline’s door again, with a hefty sack of books slung over her shoulder. She’s not even sure if the vampire was home but she knocks anyway.

The door swings open a few seconds later, and from the look on Caroline’s face she was expecting someone else.

“You’re not my pizza." 

“Nope.” Penelope says, popping her p. She walks in without an invitation and drops the sack of books on the floor with a resounding _thud._

“Penelope, what is this? I told you—" 

“To go home. Not interfere, it’s too dangerous, blah, blah…” she says, waving her hand lazily.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I was. Class just ended. Let me tell you, Chemistry of magic? Still as boring as the one in Salvatore.”

“You can’t just leave school on your second day.” Caroline tries to reason, crossing her arms.

“I can when I have 2 hours to spare, a car, and a spell to make sure no one suspects anything.”

Penelope expects another argument, but Caroline just face palms, too exhausted to argue at this point.

“Anyway, you don’t want me to help you? Fine. But that doesn’t mean you can stop me from looking for a cure to The Merge, myself. Consider this as…” Penelope gestures to the truck thick books sprawled on the floor. “a head start? I’ve already read up on them. But then again, I have stupid school in the mornings, so if you start going through these by tonight, then maybe we just might bump into each other tomorrow night.”

Caroline only gawks, shifting her gaze from the books, to the smug teenager, then back. Penelope takes this as her cue to leave and starts for the door.

The vampire is forced to make a split-second decision right there.

“Wait!” Caroline calls with one resigned word.

The witch stops in her tracks, she can feel victory practically tingling at her finger tips. "Jesus, my girls were spot on, weren't they? You are infuriating." 

Penelope smirks at this, she faces Caroline once more.

However, “I need to hear you say it,” is all Caroline says after. This catches Penelope off guard, she’s not exactly sure what the blonde means. 

“Say what?”

“You know what,” the vampire looks at her with one challenging perked up brow. Penelope knits her own, stays genuinely silent.

Until it dawns on her.

 _Of course_. She thinks. _Mothers._

Her next words roll out of her tongue, smooth as butter, real as the ground on her feet, and clearer than the stars in the sky. “I love Josie,” she declares with a voice so steady and sure, Caroline’s heart melts for her daughter right then and there. “With every ounce of blood in my body, I love your daughter. So please,” Penelope raises her voice louder now, firmer, “let me help you. Because I will not wait around just to find out six years from now that the girl that I love…” her voice cracks without warning. She stops mid-sentence, cursing herself. She refuses to cry in front of her ex’s mom, in front of a woman she, truthfully, only just met. 

Thankfully, Caroline puts her out of her dread. She’s heard enough. She nods, instead, and turns to pick up one of the books, letting Penelope compose herself with a deep breath.

Caroline skims through the ancient book before speaking again. “So you think you’ve found a lead, and you’re going after it tomorrow night? Is that right?” Caroline asks.

“Yeah” Penelope answers, still on the last moments of collecting herself. 

“Why don’t we check it out tonight? You don’t have homework do you?” the blonde says casually.

A shit-eating grin forms on Penelope’s face at her unbridled offer.

“I don’t. I promise. Scout’s honor.” 

“Great! But we’re only doing this, on one condition.” Caroline’s face suddenly meaning serious business.

“What is it?” Penelope mirrors the adult’s expression. 

“I get to drive that ridiculous Benz of yours.” 

Penelope blinks twice, before letting out a hearty laugh. She reaches for the keys in her pockets and hands them over to the vampire. “Go wild, Ms. Forbes,” she says. “But not too wild, okay? My parents just got me that last week.”

“Seriously, how rich are your parents?” Caroline asks, ushering Penelope out the door with her. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: lyrics from 'What Side of Love' by Parachute.
> 
> Oh and the title of this fic was taken from 'Prove It To You' by Kris Allen.
> 
> The twins arrive at Belgium next week!
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	3. If I cross your mind just know I'm yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. We're ignoring the finale just because.

**CHAPTER 3 – If I cross your mind, just know I’m yours.**

 

Caroline stands between a throng of people at the airport arrivals. Held up to her chest is a huge ass sign that reads ‘My gorgeous twins: Josie and Lizzie’ splattered all around with glitter and some random star stickers she’d found in her kitchen drawer. She thinks her high school self would definitely be proud.

The vampire’s practically jumping on the balls of her feet when she sees a familiar blonde and brunette pair riding down the escalator, their arms linked together. It takes everything in her not to run towards them in vamp speed as she attempts to plant her feet firmly on the ground, a plantation-wide grin plastered on her face. They don’t see her yet so she takes this moment to breathe them in. Her beautiful, beautiful daughters. They’re smiling at each other, Lizzie laughs at something Josie says, and Caroline thinks there’s an aura between them, a glowing newfound closeness that makes her undead heart soar with pride. 

They soon spot her, and before she knows it, two bodies are barreling into her in a suffocating embrace. A breathy “Mom!” from each twin tickles at her neck, and she wraps her arms around Josie and Lizzie with just as much gusto that it feels like coming home. 

“My girls,” Caroline coos, trying to hold back tears. She wants to believe that the three of them are cocooned into each other so tight, in the middle of a bustling airport, just because they’ve missed this closeness so much. But the nagging voice in her head is telling her that it holds a darker weight that none of them are willing to acknowledge yet. 

When the twins let go, Caroline unfolds her creased up sign and shows it off with a knowing, almost threatening smile that says _Please don’t hurt your mother’s feelings._ “So, do you girls like it?”

The twins eyes widen as they glance at each other, then back to the pink and red glittery sign.

“Oh…wow, mom.” Lizzie starts hesitantly. 

“I love the…” Josie gestures to the sign with her hand, trying to come up with something other than “pfft…”

“Stickers!” the blonde finishes for her. “And the…”

“The artistry, mom. The craft!” the brunette follows, a little too enthusiastically. 

“I mean, that lettering? Impeccable! You see that, Jo?” 

“I sure do!”

Both twins try to come up with something more to gas up the frilly piece of Cartolina, but they just end up huffing, and simultaneously throwing a thumbs up, with sheepish, identical grins to match. 

Caroline just rolls her eyes at her twins antiques, and their sheer inability to disappoint their mother. There’s nothing she’s missed more. 

“Ok, girls, I get it,” she says fondly, before taking both their luggage. “Mama’s a big girl, she can take criticism.” She swings two bags on each shoulder and grabs for their suitcase.

Josie and Lizzie laugh at that. Caroline could cry with delight. 

“We miss you too, mom.” They say together, linking an arm on either side of their mother. 

The family walk over to Caroline’s car with Lizzie and Josie taking up equal parts of the chatter. A new phenomenon that Caroline is still trying to wrap her head over as she’s so used to the blonde twin doing most of the talking. But she can’t help but be glad either way for this shift in dynamic. She nods along to their stories, letting out an occasional ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ or ‘really?’ fully content with just listening to her daughters. It doesn’t escape her though, how they’re clearly purposefully sticking to the lighter stuff. Nor does she have to wonder why Josie not so subtly keeps looking around every 10 seconds, as if she’s expecting something— _someone_ — to suddenly appear out of smoke.

When they get to the car Josie calls shotgun, and Lizzie relegates herself to the backseat without much of a fight.  Caroline places the twins’ things in the trunk.

She's not at all surprised to hear Lizzie going on about yet another boy she’s been eyeing when she gets into the driver’s seat.

Josie, however, has gone silent. Her brows scrunched up in confusion, nose sniffing something, mouth slightly open. She looks like she’s trying to decipher an incomprehensible code out of thin air. The confidence from earlier, dissipating quick.

“Jo, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Caroline asks, worried.

Lizzie stops talking to peer at Josie. 

“Yeah, I just…” she pauses, takes another whiff at nothing. “Do you guys smell that?" 

“Hey, I showered!” Lizzie says immediately but not without sniffing at her clothes.

“No,” Josie sounds dazed. “It smells like jasmine, and sandalwood, and…”

Then it clicks.

 _And Peneleope. Penelope’s strong, ridiculously expensive perfume._ Caroline realizes.

She dials down on the panic that surfaces, tries to fumble for an explanation. Josie looks equal parts distraught, and comforted at the same time, she doesn’t know how it’s possible. Or maybe it’s just that perpetual concerned pout on her face. 

“It’s um…yeah that’s…my…my new perfume! I’ve been trying it out. Just forgot to put some on today. You don’t like it, honey?” she says quickly, feigning innocence in her tone. 

“Oh” Josie suddenly deflates, leans back on her seat, confusion etched on her face, as if she doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed. “Ok. I mean, it’s nice, mom,” she attempts to flash Caroline a smile, but all that forms is a pained grimace.

A lump forms on Caroline’s stomach. She feels bad for her daughter, wants to drag Penelope over to make Josie smile again. 

“Hmm…it does smell nice. What is it?” Lizzie asks.

 _Well shit_.

It’s times like this when she wishes her daughters weren’t so curious.

“Oh, you know. It has this really long foreign name that I can never remember.” 

“Well, can we see it later? We’d love to try it out. Right, Jo?” the young blonde lightly knocks at Josie’s shoulder, bringing the brunette out of her daze.

“Sure.” Josie answers. It’s small and positively unsure.

At this point, Caroline’s uncertain if she wants to set her car on fire, or strangle Penelope for feeling the need to lay on such a ludicrously priced scent on herself, during their life-or-death expeditions.

Instead, she settles for a weak “Of course,” before driving off and reminding herself to ask Penelope about her perfume later.

* * *

 

 

Penelope wakes up well into the afternoon after three visits from her little sister and her incessant asking for Penelope to either listen to the new song she learned on the piano, practice fencing with her and, on her third visit, help her with the dark magic spell she found in their mother’s office.

The raven-haired bolts upright at the last one whispered into her ear so casually. 

Pria—her eight year-old angel of a sister—long black hair, curious hazel eyes, belly laughs so hard she almost falls off Penelope’s bed. The older girl snaps out of her drowsy daze quick and catches her by the waist in record time, hoisting Pria over her lap. “Come here, you little liar!” 

The tickle fight that ensues is entirely both their fault and lasts for a good three minutes until Penelope glances at the wall clock in her room and realizes what time it is.

Minutes later, once Pria’s squealing had died down, the sisters walk into the dining room for lunch, hand-in-hand, to find the rest of their family already occupying the end of the unnecessarily long, mahogany table.  Their dad is deep into reading something on his phone, their mom lost in the paper, and their oldest brother Paxton, gingerly cutting his salmon. 

“I told you I’d get Penny out of her room!” Pria announces, drags Penelope to the seat opposite Paxton, and victoriously grins at their father who rewards her with a high-five.

“Didn’t expect you home ‘til Sunday, Penny.” Paxton says, flashing their still giddy little sibling a charming smile of his own. “

Penelope shrugs in answer. “Research with Ms. Forbes ended early.” 

Their father turns to her, slight concern forming behind his spectacles. “Haven’t you caught up at school already? Why the need to continue this extra work? I’m sure Caroline can tend to her thesis herself.”

“Yeah, what was it about again?” Paxton chimes in.

“The latent effects of coven rituals on the individual conviviality of Gemini twins. ” Penelope answers without missing a beat. It bothers her how easy it’s been to lie to her own family about her after-school activities, but then again, it was also better this way. Risking her life to save someone else, to save a pair of siphons—they would never understand.

“Which reminds me,” their mother joins in. She puts down the newspaper and actually looks at Penelope for the first since she walked into the room. “Have you invited her to the gala yet?”

Such a casual question delivered with an intimidating grace. Penelope feigns a smile.

 _Haven’t seen you in over 2 weeks. I missed you. How’s everything, honey? You doing alright in school? Making friends? How’s your broken heart? You can talk to me about it, I am your mother after all._ Is what Penelope hoped she’d ask instead. But everyone and their cousin knew that her mother showing them actual care? Call it a pipe dream.

“I don’t think she’s interested, mother.”

“She went to the last one,” she points out. “Make sure to invite her. I’d like to talk more about her thesis.” Penelope grits her teeth, half in worry over the fact that, in reality, Caroline barely cracks open a book that doesn’t involve The Merge, or cooking recipes. How was she supposed to engage in scholarly discussion with the intense woman at the head of the table?

“She can’t though.” Penelope tries again.

“And why is that?”

“Her daughters are visiting her for the whole month. I doubt she’d want to spend a single day away from them, partying.”

“So invite them too,” her mother answers, sounding like she just asked her a ridiculously stupid question. “Honestly, darling, it’s no trouble at all. The more the merrier, right?”

“They won’t have anything to wear.” Penelope pushes. This much was true. She doubts Josie and Lizzie packed gowns in their suitcases just in case they get randomly invited to a charity gala in Belgium.

“We have an entire room of designers at our disposal, Penelope. Just send them what fits. I don’t understand why you have to be so fussy about it.”

“I’m not being fussy about it,” Penelope replies, she tightens her grip on her fork, trying to keep herself from snapping. She hates how easily her own mother can get under her skin without even trying.

Sensing the growing tension, her father intervenes by clearing his throat and mediating between the two. Or more like he sides with his wife, all while appeasing his daughter.

“It would seem that Penelope knows Caroline more than we do. But Penny,” her father dips his head, trains his eyes on hers, gives her _that_ pleading look. The one Pria inherited.

 _Great._

She already knows she’s lost this one. “It can’t hurt to ask now can it?”

“Yeah, Penny, it can’t hurt to ask.” Paxton grins devilishly, looking every bit the 21-year old man-child, she envisions him to be. After all, he’s the only one who knows who Caroline’s daughters really are after inadvertently having pried into Penelope’s messages one night. She’s learned to use a spell to protect her privacy ever since, glad her brother only saw that one text where Caroline had mentioned Josie and Lizzie.

“Yeah, Penny!” Pria suddenly joins in enthusiastically, no doubt thinking they were all playing another one of their unspoken games.

Now with her whole family expectantly staring at her, Penelope’s convinced she’s devoid of an actual choice in the matter. 

She finally sighs in defeat. “Alright, fine! Just…go back to eating already.”

She just hopes against hope that Caroline and the twins decline the offer. But really, who was she kidding? Lizzie Saltzman would never miss a big ball blowout and the opportunity to wear couture.

The only silver lining in all of this was Josie looking stunning in a gown. Not that she’d need an expensive frock to look anything but. She could be in sweats and half-hearted space buns and she’d still occupy every heavy breath in Penelope’s chest. Even just the thought of seeing Josie again felt like eons of anxious anticipation weighing on her heart. It’s been seven months after all.

Penelope has no idea how she’s going to survive this week.

 

* * *

 

The twins step into Caroline’s apartment, a considerably spacious three-bedroom loft tidied up to perfection just for their arrival. No book, parchment, or even a tiny piece of artifact that concerns the merge, could be seen out in the open. Good thing Penelope had the sense to hide them all with magic, tucked away in a closet, before she left.

“Oh thank god!” Lizzie bolts straight for the bathroom the moment they enter, carelessly dropping her bag. Josie only looks after her with amusement. “I swear she has the bladder of a 5-year old.”

“To be fair to your sister, it was a long drive.” Caroline says, then adds “You sure you’re ok, Jo? You got weirdly quiet in the car?”

Josie gives her a smile that’s supposed to be reassuring, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine, mom. Just jetlagged.”

Caroline nods sympathetically, “If you’re sure.”

“Do you mind, if we settle into our room first? I’m in need of a really long shower after that flight.”

“Not at all. Take your time, ok?” Josie picks up Lizzie’s forgotten bag and takes a sweep around the loft with her eyes.

“Your room’s the second one to the right.” Caroline says, pointing her to the room that hadn’t been occupied by a certain raven-haired witch and her jasmine smell. 

“Thanks, mom.” Josie heads for the direction given, but not without reappearing from the kitchen door to flash Caroline a genuine grin this time. “I can’t wait to spend time with you again.”

“Me too, dear.”   _God knows we need it._

Josie disappears back into the hallway, away from Caroline’s vision. The vampire takes this as a cue to make the all too important phone call. She brings out her phone, takes one last glance inside the apartment to make sure Lizzie hasn’t returned yet, and steps outside, silently closing the door behind her.

The phone rings twice before Penelope picks up.

“Miss me already, Ms. Forbes?” 

“What kind of perfume still lingers in a car 19 hours after you’ve been in it?” Caroline asks incredulously without warning.

“Excuse me?”

Caroline pinches the bridge of her nose, breathes in, reminding herself it technically wasn’t the teenager’s fault. “I just picked up Josie and Lizzie. We just got to the apartment.”

“Oh—wait so Josie’s….she’s here?” Penelope sputters, she hears the younger girl’s breath hitch at the news, has to stop herself from chuckling at the effect her daughter has on the snarky witch. There were more important perfume-related matters at hand.

“Yes, and they were absolutely both glowing for all of two minutes until we got into my car and Jo got a whiff of your perfume.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right.” 

“What did you say?” she could hear the slight panic in the witch’s voice start to build.

“I told her it was this new perfume I was trying out. Then she kind of just went dead quiet after that.”

Penelope’s pained sigh form the other end of the line sounded like she had just inhaled the entire air out of the room. Knowing the younger girl, she probably had her head buried in her hand by now.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Forbes. I didn’t think that would happen.”

“It’s fine, Penelope. Just give me the name of your perfume.”

“What?”

“Lizzie’s asking to try it out, okay.”’

“Christ, just tell her you ran out.”

“I know, but if I don’t at least give her a name…and please tell me it’s not Chanel number 5. I already told them it was some long foreign name that I couldn’t pronounce.”

She can practically hear Penelope rolling her eyes at her. “Tell the blonde bi—”

“Careful, Penelope.” Caroline warns good naturedly.

 The raven-haired huffs, speaks again with a faux sticky sweet tone “Tell your darling Elizabeth it’s the _Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebes_.”

“The lay lar—what the what now?”

“ _Baccarat_.” Penelope replies casually.

“Okay, now you’re just saying random words”

“You said you wanted the name of my perfume.”

Caroline groans at how mundane and silly this all sounds. “Fine. Can you just spell it out and text it to me? Knowing Lizzie, she’s probably gonna ask for the price too.”

“Sixty-eight hundred dollars.”

Caroline’s jaw drops. So does her phone, almost. Thank heavens for vampire reflexes. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” she hisses, looks back at the door to make sure no one’s heard her yet.

“It smells nice.” Penelope says, not seeing a problem with it at all. “Josie likes it.” there’s a sad, wondrous lilt to her voice at the mention of her daughter. “I mean…she did.”

A beat passes, she lets the young witch dip into reverie for a moment. She thinks the constant pining between the two might just frustrate her to death one day.

“I guess I’ll just tell them it ran out.” Caroline answers, breaking the quiet. 

“That would be the best,” the witch agrees.

Caroline hears footsteps restlessly milling about from inside. Lizzie's obviously wondering where she was.

“I need to go back. I’ll talk to you soon, Penelope.”

“You too, Ms. Forbes.”

Caroline moves towards her apartment door, waiting for Penelope to hang up. 

“Oh--no, wait!” she stops in her tracks, retracts her hand from the door knob.

The line stays silent with a slight crackle for a while, as if it’s taking Penelope everything in her to get the next words out. 

The vampire waits patiently.

“Anytime now, dear.”

Then finally, she speaks. “Do you and the twins have anything planned for tomorrow night? Please say you have something.” She can hear the pleading tone in Penelope’s voice.

It takes her a few seconds but then she remembers the gala her family’s throwing, remembers how much her daughter, and this girl—who she’s developed a certain protective fondness for—have been unnecessarily pining for each other for the past seven months, thinking one didn’t love the other enough.

She’d be damned if she messed with the opportunity to fix that.

“Actually, we don’t.” Caroline says, a knowing smile forming into her answer. 

There’s no confirmation from Penelope, who just lets out a defeated huff, just yet. But she already feels like cupid in fangs and killer high heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: lyrics from 'My Everything' by Ariana Grande
> 
> Posie reunite in next week's chapter! What do you think will happen?
> 
> P.P.S. So sorry the exposition's taking so long and for the short chapters. Work's been hell these past few weeks. I'll make it up next week. :))
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	4. Dancing away with my heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, everybody walks away from Penelope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEm2avRzU0I

**CHAPTER 4 – Dancing away with my heart.**

 

The gowns arrive the next morning at exactly 10 AM. Caroline doesn’t even question anymore how Penelope managed to procure 3 designers in a night. Why should she when Lizzie is absolutely living. She’s waltzing around the living room, electric blue satin cocktail dress held over her body. Caroline savors the floating juvenile moment, imagines all the birthdays she’s missed, hopes to god she doesn’t miss any more.

 

“So, when you said we were going to a party,” Lizzie says, mid-dance, “you could have just started with the free dresses. I would have dropped the attitude, mom.”

 

Caroline chuckles, “I’ll note that down for next time, Liz.”

 

She turns to her other daughter still sat on the couch, the dress with her name labeled on it remains unopened and untouched beside her, signature pout lining her features.

 

“I can’t believe you caved so fast. What happened to taking a twin stand?” Josie says.

 

Lizzie halts the two-step and gently lays her gown atop one of the adjacent sofas. “Come on, Jo. You haven’t even looked at yours.”

 

“Your sister’s right. You might like it.”

 

The brunette only huffs, arms still crossed in defiance. “It’s our first official night here. I just don’t understand why we have to go to some fancy party when we could spend it in our pajamas binge watching stupid rom-coms like a normal family.”

 

She knows Josie doesn’t mean ill by it but Caroline’s chest still stings nonetheless. How she wished they could be a normal family, white picket fence and all.

 

“Sorry, Jo. I told you, my friend’s had this planned for months already. And you have to admit, you did catch me off guard here,” she reasons. “I’m only asking for this one thing. Please? And then we can do whatever you both want.”

 

Josie’s resolve falls away at the sight of Caroline’s sad momma bear stare. It’s that look she’s got down to a T whenever she needs her daughters to listen to her: head slightly cocked to the side, doe eyes, a pout that could rival Josie’s. So much better than compulsion.

 

“Fine.” Josie says under her breath dejectedly. Lizzie whoops and the brunette finally unzips the black sleeve beside her.

 

As she does so, all three jaws slowly but surely descend on the cold hard mahogany floor. Josie carefully takes out a gorgeous red, high-slit, sleeveless maxi dress, with intricate art-deco embroidery lining its Swarovski crystal-clad waist.

“Um, okay why does my dress look like cheap peasant stock, beside yours? And…are those…real?” Lizzie reaches for the dainty crystals. Caroline’s pretty sure the young blonde swallows down a gasp.

 

“Who did you say your friend was again?” Josie slowly asks, her disbelieving eyes skimming the ludicrously expensive dress. Knowing Penelope Park, Caroline doesn’t even want to know how much this one cost.

 

“Oh, you know….just…a friend from…the grocery store.” Caroline wants to face palm so hard at the dumb excuse. Thankfully the twins are still too busy admiring the dress to care. “Is that my phone ringing? I gotta take this call, girls.”

 

“I don’t hear anything.” Lizzie’s head snaps up at their mother.

 

“Hey, who’s the vampire here, huh?” Then, the older blonde disappears into thin air before the former can even get a word in.

* * *

 

It takes Caroline vamp speeding to god knows where for Josie to snap out of her trance, and for the next words to fall from her lips in a whisper.

 

“Lizzie, these are actual diamonds. I can’t wear this.”

 

Instead of the sisterly support she needs, Lizzie just rolls her eyes. “Oh, boohoo, Jo. If you don’t, I will,” she moves to take the dress from Josie’s fragile hold, when the other girl instinctively holds it back from her twin’s prying hands.

 

“See? You know you wanna wear it.”

 

“I just…why this dress? Why me?”

 

Lizzie shrugs. A mischievous glint forms in her eyes, teasing smirk pulling at her lip. “Maybe mom’s friend has a thing for you.”

 

Josie quickly recoils, drops the gown on the sofa. “Ew!”

 

“What, Jo? A 35-year-old European sugar daddy could come in handy.”

 

Josie jumps off from her seat as if she’d just burned herself, disgust written all over her face at Lizzie’s words “Okay, now you really ruined it for me.”

 

Sensing her sister’s growing discomfort, Lizzie drops the joke. She stands next to Josie, places her hands on the other girl’s shoulders. “Kidding aside, why don’t you just…use this fancy shindig as a…distraction?”

Josie scrunches her nose in confusion. “Distraction from what?”

 

Lizzie looks at her pointedly. “Please, give me some credit. You’ve been acting all weird since mom told us she was in Belgium.”

 

Josie steps out of Lizzie’s grasp and looks at everything but her sister.

 

“We both know who’s in Belgium, Josette.” Lizzie eggs on, moving closer to Josie, hands on hips, her _I’m totally judging you_ stance. And Josie would admit the truth about her occasional drops of quiet reverie. She really would. Only she hasn’t even said the possibility out loud, herself.

 

“Penelope Park.” Lizzie deadpans, and Josie hates it. Hates how her breath hitches at those two simple words, at that name that should be irrelevant to her by now after 7 months. But when has Penelope ever been anything but annoyingly relevant to every bone in her body?

 

Lizzie blanches in frustration when Josie doesn’t say anything. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, Jo! How does Satan still have you wrapped around her prissy little fingers? It’s been months! Not to mention the literal bomb she threw into our lives.”

 

Maybe she’s right, maybe Josie should hate the raven-haired witch for telling her about The Merge and bolting like she did. For essentially leaving her to her possible death at her twin’s hands. But she doesn’t.

 

Because truthfully, all this distance has done was tangle up her insides to become this massive giant ball of _I miss Penelope Park._

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Lizzie has the audacity to scoff at her forced denial. “Why can’t you just move on?”

 

Josie asks herself that same question every day.

 

“Just drop it, Lizzie.”

 

To her surprise, the blonde actually does.

* * *

 

Night falls faster than Penelope would have liked. She’s changing into her silver form-fitting dress with slits on either side just above her hipbones, when she catches the scar in the mirror.

 

What once was a long, ugly gash running from just below her left breast to her rib cage, was now just a dull, stitched up reminder of her almost-death just 3 months into joining Caroline on her twin-related missions.

 

No matter how faded the scar is now, she still remembers that night clear as day. Her shallow breathing, Caroline yelling, Josie’s soft features behind her closing eyes. The nightmares don’t help either.

 

Penelope shakes her head, forces the horrid memory out of her brain. A traumatized Penelope is weak. A weak Penelope is no good to Josie.

 

 _Josie._ Her heart skips a beat, and then some.

 

 _God, I hope she likes the dress._ Penelope thinks, and thinks of the dress some more, of Josie in it. Because she can’t bear the thought of Josie looking at her with absolute loathing on her face, so she focuses on the expensive frock she got for the girl, instead.

A knock from the door saves Penelope from her thoughts. She pulls on her dress, before spelling the door open.

 

In steps Paxton looking dapper with his messy hair and navy-blue double-breasted suit. A silver pocket square that matches the color of Penelope’s dress peeks from his jacket pocket.

 

“Looking fly as ever, sis.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

 

Penelope rolls her eyes fondly. “Fly? Really? I’m disowning you if you say that again.”

 

“You’ll have to disown Pria too then.”

 

Penelope’s whips her head around to throw a disapproving scowl at Paxton. “You didn’t.”

 

“Oh, but I did,” he wiggles his brows for added effect. “I have corrupted our little sister to unironically say words like ‘fly’, ‘chill’, and…”

 

“No, tell me you didn’t. Not—”

 

“Gucci.”

 

Penelope groans. “Wait ‘til mom hears that from her and she realizes she’s not talking about the brand.”

 

Paxton only snickers, not sorry at all. Penelope lifts her had to say something, but she’s met with her older brother suddenly regarding her with an unreadable expression.

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I’m not the one on the verge of a breakdown because her ex might just show up tonight.”

 

_Damn Paxton and his sixth sense._

 

Penelope clears her throat. Ignores her brother to stack on a few gold dainty rings on her fingers.

 

“Penny, I’m just looking out for you.”

 

“I didn’t ask you to.”

 

Paxton enters her room, calm heat bubbling in his voice. “Come on, let’s not act like I don’t know what you’ve been doing with that vampire, Penelope.”

 

The witch grits her teeth, not appreciating how her brother spits out the word ‘vampire’ so maliciously.

 

“Really? Risking your life every night for a girl who’s done nothing but repeatedly break your heart?”

 

“Jesus, Paxton, keep it down!” Penelope hisses. “Mom has ears everywhere.”

 

“You said it yourself. This Josie Saltzman, love of your life or whatnot, wants nothing to do with you anymore. Why can’t you just do the same, and let it be?”

 

Penelope closes her eyes.

 

She doesn’t need to be reminded of how she spent her last days in Salvatore not-so discreetly desperately trying to vie for even just a second of Josie’s attention, only for the brunette to slam the door on her face every time.

 

Doesn’t need to be reminded that she will never be good enough for the girl in question.

 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

 

A beat. She thinks Paxton isn’t done arguing.

 

“Fine.” The older boy scoffs, instead. “You want to keep on acting like an idiotic lovesick fool? Be my guest. But Pria doesn’t need a martyr for a sister. She just needs a sister.”

 

He drives the point home.

 

“Preferably, alive.”

 

Paxton turns and walks out, not letting Penelope answer, but not without adding in a final sentiment to nail the head into her metaphorical coffin.

 

“Ever thought about who has to do all the explaining to an eight-year-old once all your superhero-ing kills you?”

 

And then he’s gone.

 

Penelope’s convinced she can never do anything right by anyone she cares about.

 

* * *

 

Josie’s growing suspicions over her mother’s ‘grocery’ friend only cements itself when she sees the fountain in the middle of the roundabout driveaway, then the lit-up Victorian-era mansion, grand and imposing, hidden in the middle of the lush foliage that took them about 10 minutes and three turnarounds to even navigate.

 

“What kind of billionaires do their own grocery?” Josie asks.

 

Her mom only flashes her a sheepish grin, turning off the ignition.

 

The again Josie actually had an answer to that, if you include—

 

“Miss?” Josie’s taken out of her clockwork spiraling by a polished man in a tail coat, his white gloved hand outstretched for her. She blinks up at him twice, until she realizes that Lizzie and her mom are already waiting for her by the front steps.

 

“Thank you.” Josie says, and lets herself be escorted to her family. Normally she would have swatted the hand away. She could take care of herself after all, no man needed. But she’d rather not take the chance and end up tripping on her diamond-embellished gown which, to her surprise, hugged every curve of her body comfortably. As if it were custom made just for her.

 

The three women walk up the steps hand-in-hand, bracing to enter a world unlike their own.

 

The gala’s already in full swing inside. Mingling socialites dressed to the nines with their pearly whites, long gowns, and Italian suits, and crystal-clear champagne served and poured with careful calculated elegance.

 

“Promise to stick together?” Josie says, holding Lizzie’s hand tight.

 

Lizzie swallows, contradicting the confidence she has plastered on. “Definitely.”

 

“Caroline!” a strong voice greets out from the polite chatter. Josie turns and is met with a strikingly beautiful woman. Pronounced nose, glowing olive skin, green eyes, only she’s small if it weren’t for her 5-inch Loubs. There’s a weird nagging feeling at the back of Josie’s head that tells her she’s seen this woman before but can’t quite place where.

 

“Adelaide, hi!” The woman and her mom kiss their cheeks on either side like the Europeans do.

 

_This must be her grocery friend._

“Looking gorgeous as always.” Caroline says.

 

“Why, thank you.” The woman—Adelaide turns to give the twins an unsettling once over. Lizzie’s grip on Josie’s hand tightens. “These must be your daughters.”

 

“Oh yes!” the blonde smiles proudly. “Josie and Lizzie.”

 

“Twins.” Josie adds.

 

“Fraternal. Obvs.” Lizzie continues.

 

Adelaide’s brow raises at the little routine…or something else…Josie’s not quite sure.

 

“Lizzie and Josie…Forbes then?”

 

“Saltzman, actually.” Lizzie’s quick to say.

 

“It’s a long story.” Caroline provides.

 

“Ah.” Adelaide only breathes with a tight smile. “Well it’s nice to _finally_ meet you both.” She shakes both twins hands but lingers a little on Josie’s. She stares at the young brunette so intently Josie has to stop herself from squirming…or setting her on fire.

 

“Well then, I have to go. A woman’s gotta make her grand entrance, right?”

 

“Of course.” Caroline replies. Josie knows that annoyed, forced smile.

 

“The dress looks lovely on you, by the way.” She tells Josie.

 

Before they know it, Adelaide disappears into the posh crowd. Looking out, she only then notices the kids their age also milling about. Telling Josie that this wasn’t just an old-rich party or gala or whatever her mom wants to call it.

 

“Okay, why’d Cruella de Ville just look at you like you just burned her cat?”

 

Josie looks to her sister, just as stunned and confused. “I have no idea.”

 

“Just ignore her, girls. She can be like that sometimes.” Caroline says, quick to dismiss the odd interaction, gently directing the twins by the small of their backs, into the party.

 

“Let’s try to enjoy, okay?” their mom perks up with signature smile that could rival any socialite’s.

 

* * *

 

 

Lizzie keeps her promise for all of 5 minutes until a ‘cute French boy’ catches her eye, and she leaves Josie to fend for her awkward, lonely self. Even their mother has managed to find her way into a conversation with a few philanthropists and their ‘do-good’ stories, almost as if she’d done this before.

 

Josie does what she does best when she’s alone at a party to keep from looking like a sitting duck. She gets herself a drink to hold.

 

She finds herself at the free-for-all bar debating on a fruity cocktail with a long ass name, or something stronger, when someone stands beside her and whisper’s almost conspiratorially in her ear, sending uncomfortable goosebumps up her skin. “You know, I found it’s more fun if you take them in tiny doses,” the girl has a heavy accent. “that way, it’ll just creep on you, and then…boom! Next thing you know you’re wasted and lying on a beach in Prague having a bloody fine time.”

 

The mystery girl moves away from Josie and takes a shot of blue liquid like it’s nothing. She gets a clear view of her this time. Half-Asian, Half-Eurpoean…something maybe, tall as Josie with both of them in short heels. Pretty, smooth slicked back hair, piercing dark brown, almost black, mischievous eyes.

 

“Yeah, I think I’m good with cocktail juice.” Josie says, scooting away a little. She ignores the mock snicker from the random girl.

 

“Sorry, it’s just, you look like you’re definitely ready to drown your sorrows.”

 

Josie clenches her jaw. _Who does this girl think she is?_

Before she can bite back, another girl steps in. A cute brunette, just a few inches smaller than her friend. Wide blue, reprimanding eyes bulge behind her glasses.

 

“Forgive my friend for whatever she’s said.” She addresses Josie with genuine apologetic eyes. “She’s…unhinged….right now.”

 

The taller girl only rolls her deep, dark orbs. Leans into Josie once again for a mock whisper, 100 percent sure her friend can hear her. “This, coming from a girl who’s madly in love with someone she can’t have.”

 

“Arden, do you ever just shut up?” the smaller girl gasps.

 

“Oohh, feisty. Why don’t you show more of that side of yours, Quasimodo? Maybe then, she’ll actually spare a glance your way.”

 

The other girl’s cheeks turn a hot bright red. Josie feels bad for her. But not bad enough to care.

 

Anyway, she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Quite frankly, she wasn’t drunk enough to find out either.

 

 “Okay…I’ll just….” she moves to slip away from the peculiar pair, but then the lights go off.

 

Josie immediately shifts to high alert, but when disorderly yelps don’t start, and the dark-haired girl from earlier, only mumbles a  “Speak of the devil,” under her breath, she decides against the fire spell on the tip of her tongue.

 

After a few seconds of pure silence, a spot light turns on, focused on the banister of the grand staircase, revealing a 5-piece regal family in sophisticated coordinated navy and silver. The woman from earlier—Adelaide stands elegantly in the middle, a wine glass in hand.

 

Then it hits Josie like a freight train. She’s seen her in photos, between hushed whispers, cold nights, and stories only meant for her.

 

 _Adelaide Park_.

 

Josie slowly trains her eyes from the woman, to the girl standing just a few inches behind her.

 

_It can’t be._

But it is.

 

There. Looking every bit the ethereal scorned angel she fell in love with, after 7 months inside her head, is Penelope Park.

 

Josie loses her breath.

 

She’s sure her heart has stopped beating, and she’s drowning, drowning in those green-gold eyes that haven’t seen her yet. Here, looking at Penelope right now, spotlight accenting every perfect angle of her face and her body, Josie’s whole world is imploding into a miniscule muffle.

 

Mrs. Park is speaking out polite greetings throughout the captivated crowd, but nothing registers.

 

She doesn’t notice Lizzie with her jaw open, looking dumbfounded, her eyes bouncing back-and-forth from the stairs to Josie.

 

She doesn’t notice her own mother carefully regarding her with bathed, anxious breath.

 

She doesn’t notice the mystery girl named Arden—whisper mischievously for her to ‘get in line’.

 

She doesn’t notice Arden’s smaller friend staring at Penelope in awe, as if she had just lost her breath too.

 

All she notices is _her._

 

Then, green eyes meet her own, seemingly unfazed by her presence, and Josie doesn’t know what to expect. A wink, an annoying smirk, a cold stare?

 

But Penelope—with all her infuriating sweetness that only Josie knows of—flashes her a small, gentle, almost apologetic smile. She’s looking at Josie like she’s the only person in the room, and Josie could cry.

 

Just absolutely break down with the three words that she never got to say.

 

The moment stretches into forever.

 

Just the two of them.

 

7 months of silence being poured into these few seconds of staring.

 

Until it’s over just as quick, and the lights turn back on.

 

Penelope breaks contact to support her mother, and Josie tunes back in to polite applause from the crowd, as the music faintly swoops into the ballroom.

 

Penelope spares another glance at Josie but her mother intervenes as they walk down the long, winding staircase, to whisper something low in Penelope’s ear. Whatever it was, Josie’s sure it wasn’t about how the raven-haired witch looked utterly breathtaking in her tight, silver dress.

 

She sees Penelope’s face harden as her mother leaves to conduct the crowd waiting for her below.

 

And Josie just wants to hold her, hug her, kiss the frown off her face.

 

But she can’t. She won’t.

 

Because Lizzie’s words ring true against her better judgement.

 

Here was the girl who broke her heart, the girl who—no matter her ‘good’ intentions—threw her a ticking time bomb and left her to die.

 

Suddenly, Josie’s blood is boiling, and she can’t help the pain the cruel girl has caused, as it floods back in droves into her lungs. Into her tired, wounded soul.

 

Penelope Park is living her best life, surrounded by wealth, fancy parties, and pretty European girls with enticing accents.

 

While Josie is left with a stupid whole in her chest.

 

The audacity of it all.

 

* * *

 

Penelope was in a trance. One made by a certain brunette in a red dress. She’s still in her stupor when they walk down the stairs, still in it when she dares to steal another look at the speechless, gorgeous, beautiful girl. _That angel-face_. She thinks. She’s missed it so much, her whole body is caught up in it.

 

Penelope is in a trance. One that can only be broken by her own, selfish mother, who blocks her view of Josie.

 

“You’ve made a fool of me, Penelope.” Her mother steadily says quietly by her ear. No anger or spite, just pure, terrifying calm.

 

“What are you talking about? I literally just stood there.”

 

“Caroline Forbes is your ex’s mother.  Josie.” Adelaide says simply. “We’ll talk later.” And just like that, she presents herself to her adoring followers.

 

Penelope looks after her, jaw clenching at her mother getting to say Josie’s name so carelessly, like it doesn’t deserve to be uttered with anything but reverence.

 

_Josie._

With everyone’s attention on the rest of her family, and Pria safely by Paxton’s side, Penelope brisk walks down the rest of the steps, hoping against all hope that Josie hasn’t run away yet.

 

_Please. Please. Please_

 

Penelope catches herself begging in her head.

 

 _God_ , only Josie can turn her into this pleading, blubbering mess, even after seven whole months of not seeing each other.

 

She spots her, thankfully, feet planted firmly where she had seen her by the staircase. Only, Josie has her head down now, hands fidgeting at the glass she was holding.

 

Penelope wants to run to her, pull her into her arms, but she figures they’re not there yet, knocks back the vexing chatter in her head telling her that they might never get there. Ever. Not after everything.

 

So she approaches carefully, instead.

 

As she does so, only then does she notice her two closest friends from her witch school standing a few feet away from Josie. She vaguely registers Charlotte calling her name, when she instinctively puts up a finger to tell her _not now._ Arden, on the other hand, has her brows knit in curiosity, following Penelope as she makes her dazed walk towards Josie, hands twisted and intertwined in front of her. A nervous habit only the brunette can bring out.

 

Before she knows it, she’s just a few inches away from Josie that she can smell her intoxicating lavender scent, hear her unsteady heavy breathing, see her slightly shaking glass. Penelope wants to hex herself for being the cause of Josie’s unrest. Wishes she could kiss it away. But she can’t.

 

So she settles for a cautious “Hey, Jojo.”

 

Josie’s head snaps up at the nickname, and Penelope’s lungs are assaulted by wide-bambi eyes and trembling full lips. She looks like can’t breathe, like she’s about to cry.

 

Penelope takes the leap right then and there. She steps closer, tentatively places a gentle hand on Josie’s, the one with the trembling glass. She takes the glass from her and hands it over to a passing waiter, before placing her hand back to fully grasp the brunette’s fingers.

 

Both their hearts hitch at the contact. Both of them try to hide it and furiously, internally, pat the reflex down.

 

“Dance with me.” Penelope says in a whisper so only Josie can hear. The first line and slow piano of a familiar song that her father loves, starts playing around them.

 

For a second Josie’s face hardens, and Penelope’s so sure the other girl’s ready to reject her like she’s always does.

 

“Josie.” Penelope tries again. “Please?”

 

She hates how her voice shakes a little, but it’s enough for Josie to look at her. Really look at her. No words are uttered by the girl, and that’s fine with Penelope. She doesn’t deserve to hear that voice yet, she thinks to herself.

 

She breathes in relief when Josie nods ever so slightly, lets Penelope fully intertwine their hands.

 

Josie’s hands are soft, smooth to the touch, just the way Penelope remembers it, remembers every line and intersection on her palm. Her body is convinced she could pass out just at the innocent contact.

 

The raven-haired girl gives her a grateful smile that’s left unreciprocated, with Josie’s eyes intently examining the ground once again. So she tugs them to the dance floor instead, in the middle of a few couples already slow dancing beneath the dim light.

 

Out of habit, the way they’ve done a hundred times when they were together, Josie places her arms over Penelope’s shoulders, and Penelope rests hers on Josie’s waist, pinky fingers skimming the diamonds on her belt.

 

They sway to the soft, sad music, and Josie keeps her head low. Penelope doesn’t force her to look at her, just settles for the near-touch of their bodies. Settles for half of Josie, for the tiniest attention she can spare Penelope.

 

But Penelope can only take so much of this, of Josie refusing to look at her. So Penelope sings along to her father’s favorite song in her head instead.

 

_‘If you pull me close, just to disappear the chances are I’d wait for you a thousand years.’_

No words could have sounded truer to Penelope when it came to Josie. It terrifies her, how she could wait forever, for always, just to be granted a glance by the girl half in her arms and, she feels, half already out the door.

 

The moment Penelope feels the chinks in her armor breaking down, Josie finally, finally looks at her. For a moment the butterflies in her stomach settle into a low hum.

 

“How…why….” Josie starts, or tries to start. She can’t quite formulate a proper question. “My mom…she …you…” she continues to stumble, her voice cracks at the _‘you.’_

Penelope shushes her, touches their foreheads together _. I’m here. I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay._ She wants to tell Josie.

 

She doesn’t.

 

“Can we please just…skim the logistics of it all, and just enjoy the rest of the song?” she asks, instead. “After all,” she adds, pulls her head away just a little to playfully wiggle her brow at the far too stiff girl, hoping to ease the tension. “You do owe me a dance.”

 

A torturous beat.

 

Then, a ghost of a smile plays at Josie’s lips for the first time, and she lets herself go. Just for this one moment, placing her forehead gently back onto Penelope’s.

 

The song plays on.

 

Right now, both girls are aware of the fact that looking into each other’s eyes again, at this close of a proximity, would be too much, could ruin them too quick.

 

So they keep them closed, dance in the darkness of their longing for one another.

 

The few inches of space left between their bodies render the simple swaying a sweet, sweet torture, holds all the things they can’t say.

 

Penelope’s transported to their goodbye in Salvatore, how they held each other in a similar way, how she silently cried herself to sleep on the plane, and then the next 7 months after that. How she’d drown herself in loneliness and near-death experiences if it meant Josie could live a full happy life. How she wants to tell the brunette all of these things, but logic holds her back.

 

So she holds Josie instead.

 

Josie, angel-face, with her eyes closed.

 

A moment. Stretching into infinity.

 

The song starts to wind down.

 

And forever’s gone too quickly.

 

Penelope dares to open her eyes, but just as she does, the inevitable dawns on her.

 

Josie’s pulling her face away, a cold hard, conflicted stare forming—the one Penelope had prepared for, had dreaded,—looks back at her now. As if Josie had come to a realization in the middle of the soft hums surrounding them. Leaving Penelope out of her thoughts once again.

 

 The tears slowly running down Josie’s cheeks preface her next words.

 

She says them so quietly, so weakly, trembling like glass, that it destroys Penelope one more time.

 

“I hate you.”

 

Then, Josie’s slipping away from her skin, turning for the exit, like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

 

And Penelope lets her because—

 

_I know._

The last line of the song stays with Penelope as she helplessly watches Josie run out the double doors.

 

“I know,” she whispers to herself out loud.

 

She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but she thinks the long, faded scar on her rib-cage starts to sear with pain again, the way it does in her nightmares.

 

_‘You could hurt somebody like that.’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'Dancing Away With My Heart' by Lady Antebellum.
> 
> If you're not familiar, and if the link above didn't give it away, they dance to 'Hurt' by Lady Antebellum (once again because I love their angsty, sad songs.)
> 
> I think it's apt, TBH.
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	5. This is a battle, and it's your final last call.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kprUiHy9U20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all aboard the angst train.

CHAPTER 5 – This is a battle, and it’s your final last call.

 

They find Josie deep inside the foliage of the Park estate, trembling by a tree, silent tears running down her cheeks. She doesn’t talk when Caroline collects her with a hug, doesn’t say anything when Lizzie helps her inside their car, not a word when they tuck her into bed, designer red dress thrown carelessly by Lizzie to the floor.

 

“Manipulative bitch,” she spits out as she does so.

 

The two blondes sandwich Josie in a cuddle and Caroline sings both her daughters to sleep. A still silent Josie succumbs to exhaustion in a matter of minutes. Lizzie follows soon after, but not without reminding her of how much they hate Penelope Park.

 

Penelope, who must have left her about 30 messages by now, asking if Josie was okay, saying sorry over and over again in a myriad of ways, begging Caroline to take care of her, that she didn’t mean for this to happen. And Caroline should really reply to the 17-year old, end her suffering. But right now, the moonlight shining on their pale, sleeping faces, she tells herself her twins come first. Family always does.

 

“Yeah, we do.” Caroline whispers as an answer to Lizzie who’s already drifted off. She doesn’t mean it, but if it’s what her girls want to hear right now, she’ll peacefully oblige. She kisses Josie on the forehead and turns off the lamp light beside her.

* * *

 

 

_Penelope’s sure she’s dying. Her vision has gone blurry, and she can feel the massive, open gash on the side of her body bleeding out. The cold hard cement tainted with a pool of her blood._

_A figure kneels down beside her. The first thing that registers in her now too foggy mind is that it’s not Caroline. The second, she recognizes the hooded woman as the witch they had been trailing for weeks, the one that rendered her paralyzed and drove a dull knife across her skin._

_“Punishment for helping out a vampire,” she had whispered to Penelope’s ear as she let the teenager scream in agony. “It’ll do good for a young witch not to upset the balance of nature.”_

_The witch runs a hand on her bleeding wound. She starts whispering a spell that Penelope can’t decipher. Seconds later, a warmth of intense painful heat seeps into her body through the opening of her skin, the heavy flood of dark magic spreads like wildfire in her chest and she can’t breathe._

_The tortured feeling is gone in an instant, and she hears a loud crash. Before she knows it, the figure above her is replaced by blonde hair and terrified blue eyes. Caroline. She’s yelling Penelope’s name. But the raven-haired witch is too far gone to listen._

_Dying’s a bitch, Penelope thinks._

_The image of a brunette, angel-face with a disappointed pout, is the last thing she lets herself imagine before her whole world fades to black._

Penelope wakes with a start.

 

Her chest, heaving. She puts her hand to her mouth to silence her loud breathing.

 

She’s used to this routine, her almost-death once again greeting her in her dreams. Or her nightmares. Her recurring nightly nightmares.

 

Out of habit, the girl reaches for her scar, closed and faded. Definitely not crawling with dark magic.

 

Penelope takes a heavy breath as she attempts to calm her nerves. It works for all of five seconds until she’s reminded of the events of that night. Of her mother grilling her after the party for not telling her about Caroline and her twins, getting a good amount of flack for helping out her ex’s mom with her ‘thesis’, for dancing with Josie and letting her run out, then being called pathetic, “Absolutely pathetic, Penelope. We do not crawl back after trash!”

 

She would have fought back, would have told her off for spitting at the love of her life, but she didn’t. She simply stood there; head hung low. Because that’s what her mother does to her.

 

Penelope shakes her head, eyes still adjusting to the darkness of her room. She reaches for her phone, having bombarded Caroline with messages earlier before she had fallen asleep.

 

Out of the 36 she’s sent, she finds one reply from the vampire. “Jo’s fine. Just shocked. It’s not your fault. Go to sleep, Penelope.”

 

Penelope doesn’t go back to sleep. Because it is her fault.

 

She lies awake on her bed instead, yet another image of Josie walking away, ingrained in her brain.

 

* * *

 

For the next three days, Josie avoids talking about the night of the gala like the plague. She somehow gets Lizzie to do the same, forcing Caroline to go about their merry way doing the most mundane of activities with her daughters. Not that she’s complaining. They’re starting to feel like a family again.

 

She’s never looked forward more to grocery shopping, or buying Lizzie clothes, or staying up late to binge watch movies, or eating out at a diner late at night, or buying lizzie more clothes. Which is exactly why Caroline dreads having to break their bubble on the fourth day. Because for the past three days Penelope has been asking to see Josie, to explain and apologize, only for the blonde to tell her that her daughter needed time.

 

They’re having breakfast around the dinner table when Lizzie beats her to it.

 

“So, what are we going to do about those dresses?” Lizzie asks casually while taking a bite off her pancake. “I say we burn them. Send them back to hell where they belong. With Satan.”

 

“It’s bad for the environment, Lizzie.” Josie says, surprising Caroline by playing along.

 

“Touché, twinny. Would throwing it in the dumpster be more eco-friendly?”

 

Josie shrugs, “We could donate them to charity.”

 

“Good idea, Jo. Imagine the millions your dress would raise for the water crisis….in the….Philippines?”

 

“Okay, girls. We are not burning, throwing, or donating anything right now.” Caroline interrupts, warranting a skeptical look from Lizzie.

 

“The devil has infiltrated our house, mom. We need to do some cleansing,” the young blonde says dramatically. “She even got to you by having her mom befriend you at the freaking grocery store of all places. I swear that whole family has evil written all over their rich asses.”

 

“Elizabeth, language!” Caroline doesn’t know where to start. Of course, they would find a way to place all the blame on Penelope. Or at least Lizzie would.

 

“How did she even know we were coming?” Lizzie continues, absolutely determined to cement the bad act on the raven-haired girl.

 

“I bet she has another magical logbook.” Josie mutters under her breath. She’s stopped eating and has relegated to playing around with her salad.

 

“You think she’s still reading our journals? Gross!”

 

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut. She only half-regrets the next words that come out of her mouth. “She knew because I told her.”

 

Silverware meets marble as Josie’s fork clangs on the floor. The twins are looking at her, mouths agape, betrayal in Lizzie’s fiery eyes. Hurt and utter confusion on Josie’s.

 

“What do you mean you told her? Like you’re texting buddies or something?” Lizzie’s standing up now. Caroline monitors her heartbeat as it picks up to a worrying speed that indicates her daughter’s just about ready to have another one of her episodes.

 

“Mom?” Josie asks, all conflicted eyes and slightly trembling lips.

 

Caroline doesn’t know how to make this better without telling them the truth. She opens her mouth for a full confessional to spill over, when she’s once again beaten to it by a knock on their door.

 

“Saved by the bell.” Lizzie says begrudgingly. She stomps out the kitchen to open the door and the vampire doesn’t know whether to sigh in relief or pull her hair out at the prolonged agony of having to yet again lie to her daughters.

 

She isn’t given a chance to choose though when Lizzie’s angry voice reaches the kitchen.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

 

Caroline exchanges a look with Josie. They both know the answer before even walking into the living room.

 

Standing outside their front step is Penelope Park, currently engaged in a heated staring contest with Lizzie.

 

“Nice to know you haven’t changed one bit, blonde black hole.” Penelope smirks at her quip, which only serves to ignite Lizzie’s terrible mood.

 

“You manipulative, lying, psychopath…” Caroline's eyes widen as she notices Lizzie’s glowing red hand siphoning magic off the door frame.

 

“Elizabeth Saltzman!” Caroline steps in. Lizzie backs down at that, throwing a scandalized glare at their mother instead.

 

“Are you defending her?” the young blonde accuses.

 

“No. Can we please all just calm down and hear Penelope out?”

 

Lizzie steps back, a seemingly permanent scowl now painted on her face. Caroline hates the betrayal it’s conveying even as her daughter says nothing back.

 

She turns to Penelope and immediately notices the exhaustion written on her tired eyes despite the confident demeanor she currently has on, that is, until Josie finally speaks up ever so gently.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Penelope’s defenses crumble just like that. She takes a tentative step in the apartment, arms twisted, nervous hands intertwined before her. “Can we talk?” she says, before adding a breathless “Please.”

 

“Jo, you don’t have to—” Josie silences Lizzie with a hand, then crosses her arms.

 

“Fine.” Penelope breathes in relief. “But we’re not talking here. Meet me outside the building.”

 

She waves her hand to slam the door shut on the other girl’s face before walking into Caroline’s room with a cold, hard stoic expression that has the vampire terrified for the witch outside.

 

* * *

 

Penelope wants to puke, or pass out, or both. She’s outside the apartment building, wringing her hands together, trying to recite her memorized speech for Josie while waiting for the brunette to step out.

 

But what if she doesn’t? What if that was her way of getting her to leave? For all Penelope knew they could be inside laughing their asses off over the stupid, gullible imbecile Josie’s made of Penelope.

 

The witch shakes the thoughts out of her head just as fast as they surfaced. Josie would never do that to her. But then again she’s not even sure anymore.

 

A few more minutes pass and Penelope’s wounded ego is just about ready to storm back in when she sees Josie standing just a few feet away. Her brow quirks up in question, though, at the familiar black garment bag lying in Josie’s arms.

 

Josie walks up to her with purpose, face set in stone. Unlike the one she had on before she ran out the ballroom four days ago, this one was more deliberate, more angry than broken, Penelope’s sure she has to scramble for a new speech right there.

 

She’s not at all surprised when Josie throws the bag on top of her car’s trunk, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t involuntarily wince at the action.

 

“Josie, what—”

 

“I don’t want it. We don’t want it.” Josie says, “We’re not some charity case that you can just buy with fancy dresses, Penelope.”

 

“Of course, you’re not. That's not why---”

 

“Either you take them back, or Lizzie’s burning them.” Penelope’s heart drops. At this point Josie's seeing red and it doesn’t seem like she’s here for a conversation at all. The raven-haired girl breathes through her nose and tries to take control of the situation.

 

“It’s a gift, Josie. I had the red one made for you.” Penelope reasons. Somehow this only makes things worse, because Josie’s lifting her head, defiant eyes staring back at her.

 

“You know I don’t like expensive gifts. Not even when we were—” she doesn’t dare finish her sentence, backtracks for a new one. “Just…go, Penelope.”

 

Then, she’s walking away.

 

But Penelope won’t let her. Not again. Her heart can’t take another visual of that.

 

“Hey, hey! Hold on.” She calls out, annoyed at herself for sounding a tad too desperate. “You said you’d talk to me.”

 

Josie stops, turns back to her with fiery anger, speaks with just as much fury as she walks towards Penelope.

 

“Talk about what? How you and your family tricked my mom into bringing us to that stupid party? How you’re still probably reading our journals like a creep? How you basically threw the merge at my face and fucking left me to deal with it? How your selfish, manipulative self ran away to Belgium like a coward?” Josie fumes. “Which one, Penelope? Where do we start?”

 

Josie’s breathing heavily by the end of it, and Penelope doesn’t know what to do or say, because half her accusations are true, half is devoid of the whole story but she doesn’t blame the brunette for thinking otherwise.

 

“How about we start with that dance—”

 

“It was a mistake.” Josie spews, set on not letting Penelope get a word in at all. Frustration builds at Penelope’s nerves. She wants to pull her hair out, wants to yell at Josie to just listen to her because _I almost fucking died for you dammit!_

 

But she doesn’t, quells the feeling instead back low into her stomach. Because then they’d both just be throwing spiteful things at each other, and she doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to drive their hearts further apart that the only way out is to scream at each other. Besides, Josie doesn’t owe her anything, never asked for Penelope to get her ribcage cut open for her.

 

“It was a mistake.” Josie repeats. “just like every other thing that involved you in my life.”

 

Penelope’s heart shatters once again. Quite frankly, the girl before her has broken it so much this past year, she’s not quite sure there’s anything left to break.

 

She doesn’t notice the immediate regret that forms on Josie’s face when her last sentence spills out of her lips, because her scar’s somehow fucking throbbing again like a bitch and _what the hell did that witch do to me?_

 

That’s when Penelope realizes, the reminder of her near-demise making itself known once again, that maybe it was easier this way. With Josie hating her. Because she would willingly die for Josie in a heartbeat if it meant the chance at saving her. And what if the next time, she does?

 

You wouldn’t need to grieve someone you so desperately hated, right?

 

It makes every bone in her body ache to say the next grand lie that she manages to muster up, but, in the grand scheme of things, when has her own pain ever mattered anyway?

 

“You’re right,” she starts, signature bitch façade rising up. “I left because I didn’t want to have to deal with all the drama that comes with the merge.”

 

Josie’s face starts to crumble, but Penelope can’t cave, not now. Not when she’s digging their relationship in a grave that could ultimately salvage one of them in the end when this whole searching for a loophole to the merge goes south.

 

“I practically just saved myself from a hellfire waiting to happen. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Penelope finishes with a bite, tries not to take it all back at the sight of the unruly tear that runs down Josie’s cheek, though the brunette’s face stays stoic.

 

“Do my whole family a favor,” Josie’s voice shakes as she speaks. “just disappear and let us enjoy our vacation in peace.”

 

“If that’s what you want.”

 

Not for the first time, Josie walks away again. Penelope though, is convinced, that this one’s the last. This one takes the cake.

 

The raven-haired witch watches the love of her life’s retreating figure until she’s completely out of sight.

 

Like a calm survivor of a recent trauma, Penelope takes the dresses, tosses them inside her car.

 

She drives home, silent tears running down her face. It takes her awhile to actually get back because she has to stop a few times whenever the scar—still very much closed up and faded—starts assaulting her again with rhythmic throbs.

 

When she finally manages to pull up into their driveway, Penelope sits back, lets herself break down.

 

She collects herself in a matter of minutes, wipes away her ocean face, and drowns herself in research.

 

She lets the pain sit with her, a grueling reminder of what she can’t let herself have.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: lyrics from 'Battle' by Colbie Caillat.
> 
> It's the shortest so far but that's just because you're getting another chapter this week...with a bit of fluff this time... I promise? Maybe? Idk.
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	6. I'll never turn, oh my back on you, dear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, post concert depression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mood near the end: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=534Y16DCavg
> 
> alternate song reco just cuz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7t4qnH8tpd4

**CHAPTER 6 – I’ll never turn, oh my back on you, dear.**

 

The old greying book closes with a resounding thud, fraying leather cover echoing throughout the walls of the empty library. Penelope looks to her watch. She passes hour 6 of her research in a few ticking seconds. The mountain of books on the table in front of her, all read and disposed of, trembles for a worrying beat when Penelope dumps her latest finished text book onto the pile. Six hours, countless books, a mindboggling number of words, and still, she had yet to unearth a new lead that would satisfy her quest for The Merge. Nor could she find anything on the stinging pain her dormant scar was causing, that didn’t lead back to anything but internal bleeding.

 

It had been three days since her last encounter with Josie. Since she last promised to leave her alone. Instead of dwelling on it, Penelope huffs her frustrated thoughts away and skims over the pages of yet another dusty old textbook. The witch raises her finger to turn the page when a sudden gust of wind does it for her.

 

Her whole witch school was currently on break. She was supposed to have the library all to herself.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Penelope asks without turning around. Of course, she already knew who it was. The vampire was never exactly subtle about using her speed around her. Usually it was to annoy the wits out of the younger girl, but she can’t imagine why Caroline would think pushing at her buttons now would be a good idea.

 

“No. You are not doing that.”

 

Penelope raises her head from the book and turns to Caroline with a calm steely façade plastered on her face.

 

“Whatever do you mean, Ms. Forbes?” she asks, sickeningly sweet tone just bordering on malice.

 

“Putting your walls up. Acting all bitchy again.”

 

Penelope smirks, returns to her reading. “I’ve always been like this. If you’re here for the Mama bear act to defend your daughters’…honor, or whatever. I can assure you, I’ve already promised to stay away.”

 

She hears Caroline sigh before she notices the vampire already standing before her, on the opposite side of the table. She’s unexpectedly brandishing a sad smile.

 

“You know she didn’t mean it. Everything she said.” Caroline says. Penelope doesn’t want to hear it. “And I know you didn’t either. Obviously,” she gestures to the stack of books piled up on the table, to Penelope’s bugging eyes, reading the same sentence over and over again. Vexed by the intrusion, the raven-haired witch slams the book shut and trains a pair of empty eyes at the adult.

 

“Remind me again why you’re here?”

 

“Well,” Caroline’s fingers start to fidget, a trait she passed on to Josie, no doubt. Though Penelope hadn’t the slightest clue as to why she’d be nervous, unless…

 

“Is Josie okay?” she asks, cold façade chipping away.

 

“No. I mean yes, she’s fine…” Caroline pauses awkwardly “…well…”

 

Penelope narrows her eyes at the blonde, stands in akimbo. “Well what?”

 

Caroline internally buffers for another excruciating few seconds before puffing out a breath and pulling out a seat for herself. She slumps onto it, utterly defeated.

 

“I may have had a teensy argument with them.” She explains, words muffled by her hands covering her face.

 

“A teensy?”

 

Caroline drops her hands and looks up at Penelope, absolutely gutted and guilt-ridden. “Okay, so maybe Lizzie trashed half the kitchen.”

 

Penelope opens her mouth to speak but settles for a nod instead. She sits down and crosses her legs, like she’s ready to give another therapy session.

 

“You don’t look surprised.”

 

The witch rolls her eyes. “Please. It’s Lizzie.”

 

“I don’t like the underlying subtext of that sentence, but you’re hurting so I’ll let it slide.”

 

“So,” Penelope places an elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand. “What caused the meltdown this time?”

 

A beat.

 

“I told them everything.”

 

Caroline receives an eyebrow raise in response but doesn’t comment on the sudden thumping in Penelope’s chest. If she didn’t’ have advanced hearing, the teenager’s still face would have fooled her.

 

“Everything…meaning?”

 

“Well, they’ve known about me searching for a loophole to the merge for a while now. They just really waited for me tell them. So there’s that.”

 

“Uhuh” Penelope waits patiently. She hears the bells outside the school ringing, signaling the passing of another hour.  10 PM, she mentally notes.

 

“But then there was also the part where I may have told them that you and I met when I did some research here at your school, and knowing who you were, I befriended you, and that I knew that the gala was set up by your family, and that I’m also friends with your mom because I met her at the grocery store, even though really—and no offense—she’s a cold hearted bitch and I would never willingly be friends with her.” The words spill out of Caroline so fast, she has to catch her breath once she’s finished.

 

Penelope blinks twice, tries to process everything the blonde let loose.

 

“Let me get this straight. You told them the truth and somehow, in the process, managed to come up with yet another lie, and so Lizzie ended up raising hell in your kitchen,” she smugly leans back on her seat and crosses her arms. “Shocker.”

 

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to tell Josie about…” Caroline waves her arms around Penelope’s general vicinity. “all this.”

 

Penelope purses her lips. She hides her amazement at the vampire actually keeping her secret from her own daughters. “Point taken.”

 

Another beat passes.

 

Both women sit in silence for a minute, letting the consequences of their half-truths drown them into two separate kinds of lonely.

 

Caroline clears her throat, a little too forcefully if you ask Penelope. But it’s more than enough to break the unwanted pensive quiet.

 

“So you’ll help me then?”

 

Penelope squints, tries to remember if she had accidentally agreed to something prior to Caroline’s jarring question.

 

“Help you with what exactly?”

 

Caroline stands up and runs her fingers through her hair almost frantically. “Lizzie’s angry, okay? She’s lashing out. And Josie…she’s putting on this tough act in front of us, but I’ve literally been listening to her crying herself to sleep for the past two nights.”

 

Penelope involuntarily winces at Caroline’s words. Of course, she was still hurting Josie even when she was doing exactly what the brunette had asked of her. Of course, she can never do anything right.

 

“They’re at some club right now doing god knows what, probably trying to drink themselves to death, they won’t answer their phones or any of my texts, and showing up there to drag them out will just make things worse, and not to mention they’re only 16, they shouldn’t even be drinking but they’re witches, Caroline, of course they found a way in, and I just…” Caroline inhales deeply, wide pleading, worried blue eyes looking back at Penelope. “I just need you to bring them home safe.”

 

Penelope resists the urge to scoff.

 

“Look, Ms. Forbes, I would love to help. But I think we’re skipping the part where both your daughters absolutely hate my guts right now.” she says, instead. Much as she would want to appease the adult, reduced to a childlike blunder in front of her, she doubts Josie and Lizzie would even spare her a chat considering they refused to speak to their own mother.

 

“I know, but they’re also probably very drunk right now. I know Josie and Lizzie, Penelope. Trust me, when they get a drink or two in, somehow everyone’s magically their friends _but_ their mother.”

 

Much to her discomfort, Penelope’s suddenly assaulted with memories of hazy nights, and the sweet smell of alcohol on Josie’s breath greeting every inch of her skin. Nights when the brunette’s hands roamed across her body in a more than friendly manner. And Penelope should really say no, let Caroline deal with her own family business, honor her promise to Josie to leave her alone, but her mind also comes up with images of Josie being ‘friendly’ with a complete stranger, and Penelope’s a goner in the matter.

 

“Penelope. Please?”

 

“Fine,” she huffs begrudgingly, takes her keys from the edge of the table, and starts to walk out before she gets the chance to changer her mind.

 

She doesn’t respond to Caroline’s whispered, “Thank you,” in the very high chance that both girls decide to set her on fire instead.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, the bar is an hour drive away from her school. Thankfully, she’s let inside without a fuss, the bouncer barely giving her a once over. Perks of being her mother’s daughter.

 

She spots Lizzie almost immediately. It’s not that hard when the blonde’s perched up on top of the front counter swaying lazily to some ‘80s disco music while calling for the bartender to get everyone a new round of shots. The cramped bar cheers at their free drinks, and Penelope can already feel the Lizzie-induced headache coming from a mile away.

 

She psyches herself up before walking up to the bar, elbowing a few sweaty bodies along the way. A drunk Lizzie actually sees her approaching and she’s met with narrowing blue eyes. Penelope thinks this one going to be one hell of a fight until the blonde breaks into a shit-eating grin that looks too friendly to be directed at her.

 

“Satan’s here!” Lizzie exclaims, she raises her arms and almost throws back her drink. “Oop! It’s okay, I got it!”

 

Penelope would have never thought that a drunk version of Lizzie that could act remotely friendly to her could exist, but the bumbling girl asking the bartender to “Pour the devil a shot,” was quickly proving her otherwise.

 

“Lizzie, that’s enough.” Penelope snaps despite the considerably warm welcome. She didn’t have the patience for games right now. “Your mom’s been worried sick looking for you.” She just barely manages to convey through the loud music enveloping the crowded room.

 

At the mention of her mom, Lizzie’s mood visibly turns sour and she practically shoves the newly replenished shot glass towards Penelope’s chest. “Don’t mention that traitor to my face, Park.”

 

Just like that it’s as if Penelope disappears from Lizzie’s senses and the blonde continues to sway along to the thumping sounds around her. So much for a drunken friendship.

 

Penelope isn’t stupid. She knows she won’t get Lizzie home without a little help, so she turns around, whispers a spell over her glass, grabs another one off the counter, and turns back to the young blonde, faux smile perfectly in place.

 

“You’re right.” She says, stepping closer and easily catching Lizzie’s attention again. She offers the spelled drink at the younger witch. “She is a traitor. So screw her, Lizzie Saltzman. You do whatever the fuck you want to do.”

 

Knowing Lizzie, she absolutely lives for the emotional validation, taking the shot from Penelope without a single doubt written on her features. The raven-haired thanks all the stars that Lizzie’s not a perceptive drunk, failing to catch Penelope’s sudden change of mind. Their glasses clink together, and she quickly knocks back the shot while Penelope takes a bit of her own. After all, she did need liquid courage if she was getting through this night in one piece.

 

“You’re not…too bad…Penelope.” Lizzie tries to stumble through her sentence, already succumbing to the drowsy haze of her drink. Penelope files the compliment for blackmail further down the line, when the blonde falls from her seat and into Penelope’s waiting arms.

 

Not the twin she’d want falling for her, but it’s not like she was enjoying the situation anyway.

 

“Ok, come on.” She carries Lizzie, bridal-style, out the bar while simultaneously promising the bartender that she’d return in five minutes to pay for the blonde’s tab.

 

Lizzie’s drowsy enough not to put up a fight and willingly lets Penelope lay her in the backseat of her car. But Penelope can’t afford to have her fall asleep just yet. She pulls the blonde up to a sitting position,  letting her sway lightly before resting her head on the seat.

 

“Lizzie, this is important. Where’s Josie?”

 

For a second, Lizzie doesn’t answer, just smiles lazily with her eyes closed.

 

“Jo—sie? Hmmm….”

 

 “God, you’re useless.”

 

“Wait, no. I…I know!” Lizzie whines, looking like a kicked bear cub who just wants to help.

 

“She’s…by the corner…” she grins, finally remembering something. “Getting… _high_.” she prolongs ‘high’ for as long as she can while simultaneously falling back to fully lie down on the seat. In all honesty, if they were friends Penelope would find this amusing, but reality reminds her that they’re far from it. So she opens the air-condition and locks the car, before setting off to find a certain brunette.

 

* * *

 

 

Penelope’s growing worries of bringing home a drugged-up Josie and having to beat up a few potheads, quickly dissipates when she finds Josie below a fire escape, leaning by the bar’s brick wall. She’s getting ‘high’ alright.

 

High on laughing gas like a high-schooler.

 

She’s surrounded by a few kids, all hopped up on the same chemicals. Her companions look like they’re all just about to enter college with a grade point average of nerd, and Penelope can’t help but feel a tinge of endearment for the girl who’s managed to involve herself with a bunch of science geeks despite a whole bar of bad decisions just being a few seconds away.

 

Quickly analyzing the situation at face-value, Penelope clears her throat, and barks a threatening “Hey!” which results into the teenagers panicking and running the opposite direction, just as she had expected.

 

“Hey, where are you going?” Josie whines at her retreating buddies, before letting out an involuntary giggle. She covers her mouth, eyes wide in amusement.

 

Penelope moves closer and steps into Josie’s view. The girl spots her, and for a moment they just hold eye contact. It’s only then that Penelope notices Josie’s reddening face caused by the alcohol.

 

Josie drops her hand, tries but fails to contain another giggle. Her adorable laughter bounces off the brick walls and into Penelope’s lonely, tired soul.

 

They’re still at least 3 feet apart so Josie leans in closer to whisper her next words like a horribly kept secret. “I can’t stop laughing.”

 

Penelope can’t help but allow a small smile to form on her lips at the adorable mess in front of her, but her heart stings a bit too. How she wishes she could be the reason for that laugh, for that smile that could cure cancer, and not some chemical gas. Her wishful thinking stops at the idea that she might never be the cause of anything happy in Josie, that all she is to the other girl is regret and wrong decisions from lowered inhibitions.

 

Just the fact that Josie hadn’t set her on fire yet, though, tells Penelope how truly intoxicated the brunette is.

 

After a minute, Josie’s laughter dies down to a fit of small hiccups. She leans back onto the wall, suddenly pouting up at the raven-haired, as if just registering what had happened. “You scared off my friends.”

 

“I know, I’m sorry.” _For everything._ “But your mom’s worried about you, Jo. We have to get you home.”

 

Josie’s plump lips turn downward, and Penelope resists the urge to kiss her frown away. “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?” the older witch asks, stepping closer ever so slowly.

 

“Because Lizzie hates mom right now…” Josie pauses, deep in thought. Then she breaks into a lazy smile, tilting her head “And I…I hate you.”

 

There’s no bite to her words, no animosity, just pure child-like wonder. As if they were both just playing a good-natured game of say what you don’t mean. But it causes another stroke of pain to Penelope’s scar all the same. She’s really got to have that thing looked at.

 

“I know.” Penelope just says weakly.

 

She takes Josie’s hand in hers carefully, and when the brunette doesn’t swat it away, she takes this as a cue to tug Josie with her. “Let’s go back?”

 

“No, wait!”

 

Suddenly, Penelope’s being yanked the other way and her body is bumping Josie’s back up against the brick wall. Josie’s laughing again and _oh god they're really close and Josie’s really drunk,_ Penelope notes.

 

She’s quick to place a respectable distance between them by propping her hand on the wall. Only problem is, Josie doesn’t let up, and lets her laughter fade just as she places her forehead onto Penelope’s, their bodies now achingly close for her bundled up nerves.

 

“Your eyes are so pretty.” Josie says quietly like a mesmerized five-year old. She can feel the taller girl’s shallow breathing on her skin, her strawberry-flavored alcohol invades Penelope’s senses. Not to mention their hands were still intertwined, and then there were her eyes, her big, brown Bambi eyes, and Penelope has to close her own, has to breathe in through her nose to stop her fast beating heart because Josie’s inebriated out of her mind and this isn’t what she would want, Penelope isn’t what she wants anymore.

 

“No don’t close them. Let me see…” Josie whines. Penelope feels a warm hand on her cheek and she has to put a stop to this now.

 

As much as it goes against every bone in her body, she finally garners the courage to pull away, missing the contact instantly. She tugs at Josie’s hand another time. “Jo, let me take you home, okay?”

 

Thankfully, Josie doesn’t protest this time, she just giggles and breathes out the smallest, cutest “Okay” Penelope has ever heard.

 

She’s once again reminded why she would absolutely lose everything for this girl.

 

* * *

 

 

Lizzie’s out like a light in the backseat when they get back to the car. Once she makes sure Josie stays put in the passenger seat, seatbelt and all, she pays for Lizzie’s tab, and shoots Caroline a quick text. “They’re fine. Come collect your daughters in 30,” receiving a “Thank you” with a heart emoji back not two seconds later.

 

The ride back to Caroline’s apartment remains uneventful at most. Josie—who had probably been rid of the laughing gas’ effects 10 minutes into the drive—just stares out of the window pensively. Lizzie stays fast asleep, save for that one time she had to jump out of the car to vomit her guts out and Penelope found herself awkwardly having to pat her back while she threw up. She had offered her a bottle of water after, to which the blonde wordlessly drank without preamble or thanks. She wobbled back to Penelope’s car without another word and fell right back to sleep.

 

 _The things I do for this family._ Penelope thinks when she pulls up into the apartment parking lot at 1:03 in the morning. Caroline, holding two bottles of water, is already standing there in her pajamas, a scarf wrapped around her shoulder.

 

Both girls start to stir awake as Penelope turns off the engine.

 

“What the hell?” Lizzie says, her voice strained from the countless shots that went straight down her throat.

 

“Good morning to you too.” Penelope looks back at her with a smirk, chuckling at the way Lizzie’s face contorts into a horrified messed.

 

“So I’m actually in hell? Fuck!” the blonde exclaims, then she’s stumbling out the car so fast she gives herself whiplash.

 

Caroline’s by her side in no time and helps her stand upright.

 

“It’s ok, baby, I’m here.” She says gently.

 

Lizzie flinches at the sight of her mom, who’s pushed away by her own daughter. Penelope clearly registers the hurt that flashes on Caroline’s face.

 

“Stay away from me.”

 

“Elizabeth, where are you going?”

 

“Somewhere you’re not!” And just like that, Lizzie’s ambling away again to god knows where.

 

Caroline sighs, quelling back her frustration. She peeks at Penelope form the backseat window, a bottle of water outstretched towards her. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Go. I’ll take care of Josie.” Penelope reassures her, taking the bottle of water.

 

The vampire nods, offers her another soft ‘thank you’ before following after Lizzie.

 

_And then there were two._

At this point Penelope had one mission: to get Josie safely into bed, and to leave before she wakes up sober and remembers how much she truly abhorrs Penelope’s existence.

 

She steps out of the car and opens the door to the passenger seat to coax Josie awake. The brunette slowly opens her eyes, smiling the moment she sees Penelope.

 

_Yup, definitely still drunk._

“Hey,” Penelope says softly. “We’re here.”

 

She reaches to unlatch Josie’s seatbelt and offers a hand to help her stand. Josie takes it but refuses to move, vehemently shaking her head. Penelope’s scared she might cause herself to throw up.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“What’s wrong?” concern etched on her tired face, she searches Josie’s features for any sign of discomfort or pain.

 

“My legs, they’re…jelly.” Josie sports her signature teddy bear pout, wiggling her legs for show.

 

“Your legs are…” Penelope repeats half in amusement and half in disbelief. She throws her head back in a groan before succumbing to the only thing she can do.

 

“Fine.” She turns her back to Josie. “Hop on.”

 

Carrying two Saltzman twins in one night. Must be a new record.

 

* * *

 

With Josie riding her in piggyback, arms wrapped around Penelope’s shoulders, an amused doorman helps them into the building’s elevator.

 

It’s only when the doors slide to a close, leaving just the two of them, that Penelope realizes how incapacitated her hands are, having to hold Josie’s legs securely in place with both arms.

 

“Uh…Jo?”

 

“Yes, Pen?” Josie whispers dreamily.

 

“Could you press number 31 for us?”

 

“What?” the brunette raises her head from Penelope’s shoulders, exclaiming an ‘Oh!’ that sounds too enthusiastic for the simple press of a button.

 

So of course, Josie Saltzman doesn’t press just one.

 

She presses _all_ of them.

 

Or at least everything she could reach at her position and intoxicated state.

 

“Josie, no---oh my god.” _Damn this girl and her long limbs_. The worst part? The two-time press-trick that’s supposed to cancel out the floor? Penelope’s been in the building well enough to know that, for some reason, it doesn’t work here.

 

Josie giggles, positively pleased with herself.

 

“We’re going on an adventure.” She says in a low rasp beside Penelope’s ear, the raven-haired girl can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine. It’s hot suddenly, and her own knees start to weaken. If it’s at Josie’s weight, or at her words, she’s not entirely sure anymore.

 

The elevator opens for the third floor and Penelope braces herself for the next 27 more. She sets down Josie who happily sits down on the floor, resting her back to the wall, while Penelope stays by the buttons, ready to press the door closed each time.

 

They ride up three more floors with Josie humming a tune that’s only vaguely familiar to the other girl, until she stops and realizes that Penelope has no plans on joining her on her spot.

 

“Pen…” Josie whines yet again.

 

Exhausted and sleepy, Penelope doesn’t stop the way she mimics Josie’s tone  “Jojo…”

 

This only serves to earn another pout from the brunette.

 

“Come sit with me, please.”

 

Penelope’s brain tells her to say no, but then again, she’s convinced anyone who has enough resolve to say no to the teddy bear in front of her must be out of their damn minds because she obliges by Josie’s request in a heartbeat.

 

Josie beams at Penelope who takes a seat beside her, leaving a safe distance between them as the elevator dings open for the 7th floor.

 

Once it closes back, the brunette, honest to god, starts singing ‘Fly Me To the Moon’. She fills the cramped space with the voice of an angel, and Penelope savors the moment, internally accepting that Josie may never be this carefree around her ever again.

 

When they get to the 10th floor, Josie metaphorically passes the mic to Penelope by poking at her cheek. “Finish the song, Penelope.” Josie whispers. “The fans are waiting.”

 

Penelope bites back a smile, closes her eyes and groans an unconvincing “No.”

 

She feels another poke or two on her cheek when the elevator sounds off for floor number 11.

 

“Sorry, she’s just shy.” Josie says. Penelope opens her eyes to a confused old man in his 80’s standing outside. “Feel free to join us though.”

 

Penelope shakes her head at the man. With wide, mock terrified eyes, she mouths out a ‘help’, and then he’s turning away as fast as his ancient knees can take him, elevator doors closing again.

 

Josie gasps and slaps her on the shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?”

 

“Did you just ask that old man for help?”

 

“I’m being held to sing against my will.”

 

Almost like it’s a fucking talent, the brunette quickly changes her features to look like Penelope just kicked her puppy. She crosses her arms and pouts down at her crossed legs for effect. “I was asking nicely.”

 

Penelope blinks back at Josie. Their fight three days ago had a heavy air of finality to it that this, right now, with Josie sulking on an elevator floor because Penelope refuses to sing with her, feels all too surreal to be true. Somehow, she’s not entirely sure how there was still enough alcohol in her system to make her act like she could stand Penelope at all.

 

Unless—

 

She shakes the thought away in a snap. There’s no way she’d get her hopes up after having it shattered to smithereens by the same girl a hundred times over. She decides to live in this moment instead, to cherish it, because this could may well be the last time Josie—drunk or not—lets her this close.

 

“Hey, Jo?” Penelope says softly, elevator closing for the 14th floor. Josie doesn’t look up, just continues to sulk in her own bubble.

 

When Josie doesn't budge, she can’t believe what she actually does next, because she’s apparently singing now, for Josie, to Josie. She picks up where Josie had left off, letting the melody flow out of her in a whisper, only letting the younger girl hear.

 

Penelope can see Josie fighting back a smile as the corners of her lips twitch. So the moment elevator door closes for the 16thtime, Penelope gives up on acting cool.

 

Unfettered from her dignity, she belts out the last lines to the Frank Sinatra song, sure the whole building can hear her, and Josie is suddenly reduced to a laughing mess—one not caused by manufactured gas this time.

 

Before they know it, both girls are singing random songs at the top of their lungs, from a questionable rendition of ‘California King Bed’ to a near screamo version of ‘Moon River’. They even manage to scare off a few hopefuls waiting to step onto the elevator.

 

Although, to both their entertainment, a lady in her 50’s does sing along to their version of ‘Footloose’, breaking out into a little jig before ultimately deciding not to ride the elevator with them. She flashes the two a sweet smile before the door closes on her.

 

“That’s literally going to be you 30 years from now.” Penelope says. Josie just laughs out loud at that and skips to another song to which Penelope obliges with another duet.

 

They’re all sung out, and their mood mellows down by the 27th floor. Both girls try to catch their breath after performing a whole ass concert.

 

Without thinking much about it, Josie lays her head on Penelope’s shoulder, knee resting on top of the older girl’s.

 

Penelope’s breath hitches at the contact, bringing her back down to the absurd reality of the situation.  She looks up at the ceiling, trying to quell the all to familiar feeling of falling once again for Josie.

 

_Josie who hates you, who doesn’t want you anymore._

She reminds to herself like a mantra, all while breathing in the subtle floral scent of Josie’s shampoo.

 

Of course, the moment she starts to get into her head that this whole elevator escapade was just a fluke brought about by circumstance, that it was never to happen again, Josie chooses that exact beat of silence to speak.

 

“Pen?”

 

“Hmm?” Penelope hums, not sure if she can speak properly without her voice giving her away.

 

“I didn’t mean any of it.”

 

It’s said to the wind in secret, that if her and Penelope weren’t so close, the other girl wouldn’t have heard it at all.

 

A pensive silence passes by them as the elevator nears the 30th floor.

 

Penelope thinks if she doesn’t say it now, she might never get the chance to say it again. Even if Josie won’t remember any of this the next day because _she’s drunk, Penelope. She doesn’t know what she’s saying_.

 

“Me neither,” she admits in an anxious voice just as low.

 

Penelope holds her breath for an answer, but Josie only remains quiet on her shoulder as the elevator finally gets to the 31st floor.

 

“Josie?”

 

“I need to throw up.”

 

Josie’s sprinting to Caroline’s apartment with the almost-speed of a vampire. Penelope worriedly follows suit, all but leaving their little moment to the wolves of uncertainty.

 

* * *

 

 

The events that happen next come out hazy, as if they belong to that place in between dreaming and waking up, the one where you’re left to only remember bits and pieces, until the whole picture completely chips away.

 

After having thrown up all the alcohol in her system, Penelope tends to Josie, washing her face, and wiping her arms with a cold towel while they’re seated on the edge of the white marble bathtub. The brunette is too drained of fluids in her body to say anything at all, and Penelope doesn’t mind. She’d take the silence than another heartbreak any day.

 

Josie tries to mumble an apology a few times. When Penelope helps her up back to her room, when she tries to change to her sleep clothes but gets caught in her shirt buttons so she has to ask Penelope to help, when the raven-haired girl is gently tucking her in for the night—or morning. All the while Penelope shushes her, tells her not to say sorry, that it’s okay.

 

“It’s okay, Josie.” Penelope reassures her one last time as she watches the brunette fall into a deep, much-needed slumber. Thinking she’s fully asleep, she places a flutter of a kiss on Josie’s forehead before turning off the lamplight.

 

As she turns to step out of the room, ready to leave her heart on the other side, Josie manages a strained “Please stay.”

 

Penelope sighs. She grips at the door knob as tears start to threaten at her eyes. “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

She turns around to Josie already looking at her from where she lays on her bed. She’s thankful for the darkness that keeps her from actually seeing Josie’s face, keeps her from gathering up the vulnerable girl in her arms just for the night.

 

Penelope gives her a sad smile, instead, one that she hopes conveys everything else that she wants to say. _I love you, don’t you remember?_

“Because you won’t want me here in the morning.” When she doesn’t get a reply, Penelope forces herself to step out of the room, out of the apartment, and out of Josie’s life. She doesn’t here the quiet sob after.

 

She doesn’t here Josie say it completely sober.

 

Doesn’t know that all the other words she’s said since halfway through their car ride home, had all been totally, utterly Josie, and Josie alone.

 

“But I’ll always want you.”

 

Josie doesn't remember falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Rose" by Briston Maroney.
> 
> I honestly refuse to read it back again because it's almost midnight and it's so long and i'm too sleepy, I do apologize for any mistakes. Good night.
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	7. I'm running to your side (flying my white flag).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, a determined Josie in the eyes of everyone else.

**CHAPTER 7 – I’m running to your side (flying my white flag).**

 

Caroline pours her magic sober elixir into two glasses and places them both on the empty kitchen table, weird green juice sloshing sloppily as she does so. She had both dreaded and anticipated the day she’d have to make the drink for her daughters, but after the events of last night, she’s convinced now’s as good a time as any for ‘the talk’. One she has yet to give because apparently both Josie and Lizzie intend on sleeping the whole morning away.

 

The vampire settles on a chair with a sigh. She revels at the last hours of her quiet morning until she’d have to face her daughters, fully unaware of how they were going to act. If they were still angry at her for lying, if they were going for the cold shoulder treatment, or if they planned on sweeping it under the rug—the last of the three, far less likely to happen.

 

So she readies herself for a cold war.

 

Which is why she almost falls from her seat the minute Josie barrels into the kitchen like a trooper on a mission. The brunette throws Caroline a curt “Morning, mom,” before she starts rummaging through the cabinets only to pour herself a bowl of cereal in the end. She then sits on a chair opposite her mother and starts to vehemently scarf down on her food at an almost alarming rate.

 

“Jo?” Caroline starts, incredulously watching her daughter devour her Captain Crunch like she’d starved herself for weeks.

 

Josie doesn’t reply, just feeds her mouth with spoon after spoon of cereal.

 

“Josette, slow down.”

 

“Can’t.” Josie manages to say in between her last spoon. She sets her bowl down, empty and cleaned off, before reaching for the coat slung on her chair. “I have to go.”

 

In one swift motion, Josie stands up and throws on her layer, and only then does Caroline notice how the brunette is already fully dressed to go out. She’s wearing a white ruffled blouse, and a red pleated skirt that ends just above her knees, along with sheer tights that’s barely covering her legs from the slight drop of temperature outside.

 

“Hold on. Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Josie turns back to her. Big, brown eyes wild with something Caroline can’t quite place, leading her to wonder what the hell exactly happened last night between Josie and Penelope. After all, the raven-haired witch had displayed no indication of anything having gone awry when she herself had returned with a sleeping Lizzie in her arms. All the while Penelope had waited on the couch to tell her that Josie was fast asleep in her room. And, after a genuine bid of ‘good luck’ she had left the apartment without another word.

 

“Just…sit down first. Here…” Caroline takes a glass of green juice, offering it to Josie whose determined face quickly morphs into a pained grimace at the sight of the drink. “Try this. It’s supposed to sober you up.”

 

Attempting a thankful grin at her mother, Josie takes the glass and gingerly places it back on the table. “I’m fine, mom.”

 

Caroline wants to argue, but taking a clearer glance at Josie, there’s no denying that the girl did look hangover-free, save for the faded reddening around her eyes that she had clearly covered up with makeup.

 

“Actually, can I borrow your car?” Josie asks, shifting from foot to foot.

 

“Honey, you can’t even drive yet.”

 

“Right. Could I have money for a cab, instead?”

 

Josie’s an intuitive kid, Caroline knows that. She’s smart, brilliant beyond her years, and learns at a speed nearing genius. She has no doubt her daughter can easily navigate a foreign city on her own without much of a fuss. But with this Josie, with persistent wide eyes, and restless shifting? The blonde didn’t know what to think. So she decides to pay along instead.

 

“Sure, dear. How much do you need?” She asks, hoping to catch Josie off-guard with her sudden agreement. Only, Josie beats her to the punch.

 

“That depends. How much do you think a cab to the Parks would cost?’

 

“The park? Why would you want to go to… _oh_ ”

 

It comes to Caroline slower than she’d like to admit. Because Josie definitely wasn’t talking about taking a morning stroll on a green field with plastic swing sets.

 

“You wanna tell me why you’re rushing to Penelope’s house at 10:30 in the morning?”

 

At the mention of the witch’s name it seems all the resolve coursing through Josie’s veins earlier, begins to slowly seep away.

 

“I—” she looks down, starts fidgeting with her fingers. “I just need to tell her—.”

 

“Tell her what?” Caroline asks gently. She patiently cocks her head to the side, careful not to break Josie’s determination.

 

A groan escape’s Josie’s throat, before she turns an abrupt 360 in frustration. Hands holding the sides of her face, she looks back at Caroline, utterly perplexed.

 

“I don’t know, mom. I just…I need to tell her…something. Anything. After last night I…”

 

And Caroline’s at Josie’s side in a second, coaxing her running heart to a steady calm, while asking her to sit on the couch. She has no idea what happened between the two, has no intention of asking either. Because whatever it was that led her daughter to the realization the she just _needed_ to see Penelope, to talk to her, after practically lying to herself for the past week? Well…Caroline’s only qualm is that she does it right.

 

 “Okay. Why don’t we practice, first?”

 

Before Josie can answer, her mom vamp speeds to the kitchen, and is back by her side in a snap with a notebook, pen, and a wide, hopeful smile.

 

“I’ll even write it down. So you don’t forget.”

 

Josie simply chuckles. She shakes her head and fixes her skirt. But when she doesn’t hear another word from Caroline, just feels the blonde still staring at her with anticipation, she realizes she’s not kidding at all.

 

“You’re serious?”

 

Caroline quirks a challenging brow. “Are you?”

 

“Of course I am!”

 

“So?”

 

Caroline gives her an encouraging smile, similar to the ones she used to flash both her twins whenever they were worrying their heads off about a particular test back when they were kids, and it’s all Josie needs to concede.

 

She nods and takes a deep breath, as the blonde readies herself to write.

 

“Penelope…”

 

Caroline writes it down, mouthing the name with every letter. “Go on.”

 

Josie opens her mouth to speak but closes it again, repeating the action for another three times before Caroline notices her eyes start to well up with tears.

 

“Asterisk,” she says out loud while writing. “starts crying. Asterisk.”

 

“Mom!”

 

“I’m kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood.”

 

Much to her triumph, Josie lets out a laugh, quickly wiping away the tears threatening at her eyes. They practice Josie’s ‘speech’ for the next hour or so until Caroline finally lets up and offers to drive Josie instead.

 

As promised, Caroline had written it all down on a piece of paper that now anxiously sits in the pocket of Josie’s coat.

 

* * *

 

Paxton pulls up the driveway fully intending on a bubble bath accompanied by a very expensive phone call to a boy 4000 miles away. He abandons his plans, however, at the sight of a familiar brunette arguing with their head butler by the front steps of their home.

 

“I’m sorry ma’am but Ms. Park is very busy right now,” he hears James reason. Josie Saltzman takes a step back, schooling her frustration by looking the other way.

 

“Can I help you?” he decides to step in. If there’s one thing Paxton vividly remembers from his sister’s stories of the girl, it’s her affinity for fire, and he’d rather not have a burning mansion at his watch.

 

“She claims she’s Ms. Penelope’s friend, sir?”

 

Josie turns to him with furrowed brows, clocks the recognition that dawns on her features.

 

“I’m—”

 

“Jojo.” Josie winces at the name. She’s never liked hearing it come from someone else’s lips. Paxton catches on quick.

 

“Sorry. Josie. Right? Saltzman.” He extends his hand for the younger girl.

 

Josie nods, politely takes it and shakes his hand. “You’re Pax.”

 

“Paxton. Has my sister talked about me?”

 

Josie just shrugs, too distracted by something else. “Occasionally.”

 

Past Penelope’s rambling and the photos on the dresser in her room, this is the first time Paxton’s actually seen Josie up close, and he has to admit he gets the appeal. Pretty face, kind eyes, soft features, everything his sister wouldn’t normally fall for, because Josie Saltzman definitely looks like the type you end up wanting to marry.

 

But apparently Penelope did, plummeted hard and fast off the tallest building in the world with no one to catch her. Now he has to watch his poor, love-struck sister free-fall onto nothing. At the thought, it takes a good amount of energy not to send Josie away.

 

“She’s fine, James.”  Their butler immediately steps aside to let Josie in without another word.

 

“Thank you.” Josie says genuinely. She starts to bow before awkwardly stopping herself halfway. Her eyes widen in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I did that.”

 

Paxton laughs it off. It’s hard to believe that this clumsy, bumbling girl is the same one that’s managed to repeatedly destroy his sister’s heart.

 

“Come with me, Josie Saltzman.”

 

Paxton takes her up the staircase leading to the room where he knows both his sisters are at this time of day.

 

“How’d you get past the initial security outside?” Paxton asks as they walk up the steps.

 

“My mom drove me. The guys outside already know her, I guess.”

 

“Oh yes, Ms. Forbes. Kind vampire, that one. Where is she, then?” They enter a hallway, dimly lit by a chandelier.

 

“I asked her to stay behind. She’s probably waiting at some coffee shop right now.” Josie says, absentmindedly trailing her eyes over the paintings linings the walls.

 

“Adopted?” he prompts, getting Josie’s attention. The other girl just looks at him, confused.

 

“You’re a witch. She’s a vampire.” He puts up his hands, waves them in the air as if he’s weighing something. “Penelope hasn’t exactly talked about the logistics of that.”

 

“Oh.” Paxton turns another corner. “It’s a long story.”

 

He nods. She’s guarded. They did just meet after all. He can respect that.

 

So, he gives her a moment to breathe before he digs down on what he really wants to say. He is a gentleman after all.

 

“’Friend’ is kind of a loose term right now isn’t it?” he says after a beat, all nicety thrown out the window as they near their destination.

 

“Excuse me?” Josie looks sincerely out-of-sorts; it only irks Paxton even more. He stops in his tracks to face the brunette, hands shoved in his pockets and a stern look forming on his face.

 

“Look, Josie Saltzman. Let’s skip the awkward politeness and just get down to it.”

 

Josie’s jaw clenches at the sudden animosity in Paxton’s tone, but she doesn’t let up, just stands straighter and tilts her head a bit higher.

 

“Brilliant as she is, my sister’s apparently an idiot when it comes to you. She’d literally die for you. Did you know that? I mean sure, it was cute at first, but now it’s just really annoying and completely inconvenient. So,” Paxton squares his shoulders, stepping up just the slightest. “if your only intention is to go in there and have another swing at Penelope just to make yourself feel better, you should know right now, I don’t play around when it comes to protecting my family.”

 

Paxton half expects her to squirm and run away, and half braces to be set on fire, but he quickly learns that Josie Saltzman is anything but predictable.

 

“I’m sorry.” Josie sighs. “Look, Paxton, please, I’m not here to fight. I just…I need to see her. Right now. Preferably.”

 

Up close, Paxton regards her for the first time. She looks tired. As if she had just spent the whole night tossing and turning in her sleep, barely managing to hide her unrest. If it weren’t for the quiet fiery determination in her deep brown eyes—only tinged by a hint of desperation—he’d be sending her home by now and telling Josie to just sleep whatever it is off and to leave Penelope out of it. She’s done enough damage after all.

 

But at the end of the day, Paxton doesn’t meddle. Especially not when it comes to his sister’s business (save for that one time where he had read a text on her phone.) So, without answering Josie, he turns and walks up to the third door down the hallway they were in. He doesn’t have to look back to know that Josie’s following close behind.

 

The door to the gym is ajar and Paxton can already hear footsteps shuffling across the hardwood floor. He opens it slowly to find his sisters in the middle of training. Pria’s in full fencing gear, mask and all, holding up a sabre that still looks far too big for her own good, while Penelope is bent in a lunge position—to meet their youngest sister at her level–protected by nothing but leggings and a grey sweatshirt. She has one hand tucked behind her back, while the other brandishes her blade.

 

“Ant guard!” Pria exclaims, stepping into position. Penelope laughs, shaking her head.

 

“Pri, I told you, it’s _en-garde,_ not ant guard.”

 

“Oh, ok.” Paxton grins at the adorable child, her little voice barely echoing through the mask. “Ant guard!”

 

Penelope sighs lovingly, concedes to her sister’s wishes. “Ant guard!”

 

Pria delightedly squeals.

 

“ _Pret._ ” Penelope continues.

 

And, once she’s sure the youngest Park is set, “ _Allez!_ ”

 

Pria immediately goes for the offensive, swinging her blade in timed precision. Penelope successfully blocks all her attempts without actually answering with an attack. The youngest Park moves with her perfectly practiced footwork, all the while Penelope remains glued to the floor in her half-kneeling position.

 

The sound of metal on metal continue to bounce off the gym’s walls as Paxton spares a glance at Josie, one hand fixed on the door frame, eyes comically jumping from Penelope to Pria. She looks utterly engrossed as if it’s the first time she’s seen a fencing ‘duel’ in person.

 

After a few more seconds, Penelope retaliates with a flimsy _riposte,_ purposefully leaving her chest area open for Pria to finally land a hit. Once she does, Penelope dramatically falls backwards over on the floor, fake groaning in pain.

 

“I’ve been hit! Dead! I’m dead!”

 

Pria giggles uncontrollably at her older sister’s antiques. Josie tries to hide her own behind a hand. Her eyes are trained at Penelope with pure adoration, until she feels Paxton staring at her with a smug smirk. Josie drops her smile, starts looking at her feet instead. He clocks the blush furiously creeping up her cheeks.

 

“Not fair, Penny! You weren’t even standing!”

 

Penelope sits up, back still turned to the two spectators by the door. “You really want a real duel, Pri?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Paxton clear his throat before the two girls can start to go at it again. “Not to ruin the fun, girls. But we kind of have a visitor.”

 

At the announcement of a new possible friend, Pria quickly struggles to take off her mask, and Penelope holds back a giggle, helping her sister out of the garment.

 

Once her vision isn’t obscured by black mesh, an audible gasp escapes her throat at the sight of Josie.

 

“Penny, it’s the girl in your photos!”

 

“The girl in my—”

 

Pria’s running past Penelope before she can even register what’s happening. The raven-haired witch follows her little sister’s trail, only to find Josie awkwardly standing by the door. Penelope’s eyes widen in shock. She quickly stands, dusts off her leggings, sabre still in hand.

 

“Josie,” she says the other girl’s name so breathlessly, Paxton makes sure to tease her about it later.

 

“Hi.” The brunette squeaks with the same airy breath and the room is suddenly overtaken by a thick tension brought about by the two girls just _staring_ at each other.

 

Paxton wants to close Pria’s eyes from the silent heated exchange. But to his sweet sister’s credit, she’s the ones who breaks the awkward lull, not even registering what’s happening at all.

 

“Hi!” she interjects with a grin for a face, looking up at Josie.

 

Both girls snap out of their moment. Josie turns to Pria, schooling her daze and offering the little girl an endeared smile. “Hello, I’m—”

 

“I know you! You’re Jojo!” Josie doesn’t correct her with the nickname, just bends down to meet her at eye-level.

 

“And you’re Pria. Penelope talked about you a lot.”

 

“She did?”

 

Josie nods. It’s Penelope’s turn to watch the pair adoringly. Paxton rolls his eyes. _Idiots._

 

“She says you’re best person she knows. I don’t know you that well yet, but I have to agree. You’re practically a fencing champion!”

 

Pria giggles like the compliment had tickled her insides. “I am!”

 

Despite his earlier threat Paxton thinks maybe Josie Saltzman’s not all that bad after all. Although he leaves off his judgement for later.

 

Then, as if a switch goes off over the eight-year old’s head, Pria starts to jump excitedly, her too big fencing gear, wiggling along. “I like her! Penny, Penny can she please go with us to the park later?”

 

Penelope turns into a deer caught in the headlights at her sister’s request.

 

“Oh please, please?”

 

“Pria—”

 

“Quick on the invitations there, huh?” Paxton saves. He places his hands on both Pria’s shoulders to quench her bouncing energy. “Maybe we should let the adults talk first?”

 

Pria’s face falls into a pout, she crosses her arms defiantly. “But the adults _always_ have totalk.”

 

Paxton has to hand it to Josie, aside from being a charmer, she’s also good at pacifying kids apparently.

 

“I’d love to go.” She tells the youngest girl, and Pria’s face breaks back into a blinding smile.

 

“You would?”

 

“ _You would?”_ Penelope echoes wholly perplexed by the situation.

 

The brunette sneaks a shy glance at Penelope before turning back to her little sister. “Of course. But is it ok if I talk to your sister first?

 

Pria almost pouts again, brows knitted in true child-like concern. “Will it be a long talk?”

 

Josie laughs, flashes the child a reassuring smile. She leans over to Pria like it’s their little secret, faux whispers loud enough for Penelope to hear. “I promise to keep it short.”

 

It’s enough to convince Pria to abruptly take Paxton’s arm and drag him out the room as fast as she can pull him “Come on, Paxi! They have to talk!”

 

“Okay, kid, that’s what I said!” he plays along to his sister’s enthusiasm. “Oh my god, how are you doing that?”

 

Paxton lets the smaller girl think she’s pulling him with her own strength as he follows her out the door, but not before throwing a playful wink at a dumbfounded Penelope.

 

_Good luck, sis._

* * *

 

To say Penelope was confused was the understatement of the century. With the emotional whiplash Josie’s caused her this past week, she’s almost sure the nerve endings in her heart were just about ready to snap. First, the sudden phone call, then, Josie showing up all gorgeous and dancing with her at the charity gala before reminding her of how much she hates Penelope and quickly running out after. Then, there was their traumatic fight outside Caroline’s apartment, and don’t even get her started on the whole elevator incident after Josie had just literally asked her to leave her alone days ago.

 

Now, here she was again, nervous hands fidgeting, promises to her little sister hanging in the air. Penelope didn’t know what to think anymore.

 

“Hi.” Josie says quietly after an uncomfortable beat.

 

“You said that already.” Penelope replies. She amends her tone with a light chuckle when Josie mutters a “Sorry.”

 

She wants to blanch at the awkward tension mocking them in between breaths. She and Josie didn’t use to be like this. Even way back when they were just friends— _best friends!_ —(trying to pretend that they both didn’t crave to be something more to the other) all it took was a single glance from across the room to know what the other was thinking, to know which funny face to pull in order to garner an embarrassing guffaw from the other amongst the quiet noise of the library.

 

Penelope shakes the thought out of her head. She picks up Pria’s forgotten blade and hangs both their sabers on the wall behind her, looking for something, _anything_ , to do.

 

“I’ve never seen you actually fence before.” Josie prompts. Penelope squeezes her eyes for a second. Were they really going for the polite small talk route?

 

“Yeah well, it wasn’t really part of Salvatore’s P.E. curriculum.”

 

Another beat of silence.

 

“Your sister’s cute.”

 

“She is.”

 

She hears Josie’s nervous shuffling behind her, and finally decides to trade both their misery for a potentially different kind of…hurt? Penelope’s not too certain

 

“What are you doing here, Josie?” She catches Josie’s grimace as she turns to finally face her. “You made it very clear that you wanted me out of your life. I mean, aside from last night, which you probably don’t even remember anyway, I don’t—”

 

“About last night...” Josie takes a tentative step. She places her hand inside the pocket of her coat as if she’s reaching for something.

 

“What about it?” Penelope crosses her arms over her chest, a defensive mechanism that she’s sure Josie knows all too well, which probably explains the determined softness of her next words.

 

“I remember everything.”

 

Josie slowly takes out a piece of paper in her pocket, but Penelope’s too stunned to notice.

 

“Everything?” she whispers, repeating slowly.

 

Josie nods before her lips quirk into a slight smile that’s enough to send Penelope’s head reeling. She couldn’t even remember the last time Josie so much as looked at her without pure hostility painted on her face.

 

“I may have already sobered up before we got to my mom’s apartment.” When Penelope doesn’t answer, Josie soldiers on, gingerly unfolding the note. The shaking of her hands betrays her attempts at seeming confident.

 

“I had this speech prepared—”

 

Penelope barely hears Josie’s next words because the events of the night before suddenly starts replaying in her mind in rapid speed. Instead of shutting up and just letting Josie read her note, Penelope’s stupid brain decides to preoccupy herself with something else.

 

“Hold on. You mean to say you had me carry you all the way from the parking lot to the elevator just because you.. what? Wanted a ride?”

 

“That’s what you got?” Josie blinks twice, she lets the paper dangle at her side. “In my defense, my legs really felt like jelly. It was a long drive.”

 

“It took us, like, 45 minutes.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Penelope chuckles, slowly uncrossing her arms. She regards Josie with kind eyes, and a near playful smile. “And you pressing all the elevator buttons like an actual child?

 

“Oh my god!” Josie takes the lapels of her coat and pulls them over to hide her face as she groans in embarrassment.

 

“Maybe I just—” Penelope doesn’t understand the taller girl’s next words having been drowned out by her coat. She steps closer towards the brunette in a bid to hear her more clearly. She’s sure Josie’s already turning a bright tomato from under her jacket.

 

“What was that?”

 

Josie drops the coat, speaks so fast she’s out of breath when she finishes “MaybeIjustwantedtospendtimewithyou.”

 

“Okay, great. Now say it slower.” Penelope teases, like she’s teaching a five-year old basic English.

 

“I wanted to spend more time with you, okay? And I knew you wouldn’t stay. And I was right. So I had to find a way to prolong our time together. And I know I said some horrible things before, and I just…I wrote you this speech, and _god,_ Penelope, it’s been seven months, and can I please just read it now?”

 

Josie huffs at the end of her confession as if she had just run a marathon. Her cheeks are burning red now and it takes all the restraint Penelope can muster not to pull her into a hug right then and there.

 

“Okay.” She simply says, instead. It takes her a few seconds before she notices that they’re only standing a few feet apart now. Josie must have inched closer during her rambling.

 

Josie who’s suddenly taking back every word that had previously caused Penelope an insurmountable amount of pain, who’s calling herself overdramatic, that Penelope had simply caught her off-guard at the gala.

 

Josie who she’d taught she had lost for good.  Josie who’s standing before her now, shyly reading from a note, so infuriatingly confusing, and so infuriatingly beautiful when she’s flustered and nervous and has Penelope wrapped around her fingers without even knowing it.

 

Josie who’s saying that she misses her, that maybe she’s missed her ever since they’re break up, involuntarily causing Penelope’s heart to soar (even though she can’t quite understand how the brunette was saying all of this so casually.)

 

Josie who she’s ready to pull in for a kiss just to save her from nervously stuttering through the rest of her letter.

 

Josie who apparently chooses to end her long-winded apology with a “Last night made me realize that I don’t think I can lose you again. You’re still important to me, and I’m tired of fighting, Pen. I’m tired of watching you walk away.” then, cements it with a “Can we please just be friends?”

 

And oh. _Oh._

_Friends._

Penelope’s heart drops just a little because of course. _Of course,_ Josie with her kind, thoughtful heart, after all of that, just wants for them to be friends again, as if they weren’t always something more.

 

Penelope internally curses herself for expecting anything else, as if Josie never actually saying ‘I love you’ back hasn't haunted her in her dreams almost every time she sleeps.

 

Because 'I wanted to spend more time with you', doesn't mean 'I want you.'

 

At that moment it truly dawns on her, past the multiple ‘I hate yous’ and the ‘leave me alone’ or the ‘I don’t want you around’ that were all supposedly untrue, that Josie—despite never actually hating her—had actually taken her seven-month absence to completely, truly move on. From them. From the love that had been the only thing keeping Penelope afloat, keeping her from going absolutely mad at the scar continuing to torment her every night.

 

And with Josie waiting on her expectantly, soft brown eyes, shining and hopeful, Penelope can’t complain.

 

Because if the pain of the past week had taught her anything, it’s the thought that if she has to live the rest of her life being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore, _someone like Josie Saltzman_? Then she thinks she can handle it. She’ll learn to handle it. Because at the end of the day, of this very long and messy dance that they had both finally tired of, she’ll always want what Josie wants. _Be_ whatever Josie wants her to be.

 

So Penelope just nods in confirmation, managing a weak “Friends,” in between, before Josie’s pulling her into a relieved hug, and uttering a breathless and teary “Thank you” by her ear.

 

They hold each other tight like anchors in a vast ocean for the first time in almost two years, breathing each other in as if they had just resurfaced from drowning.

 

And it’s not the same.

 

But Penelope thinks—with Josie pressed to her like they’re each other’s life line—it still feels a lot like coming home.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: song lyrics from Surrender by Natalie Taylor.
> 
> Unlike Julie Pluck, you'll actually get the actual contents of the letter next chapter. Plus, we're going into Josie's headspace and major fluff (maybe) from friends Posie LMAO.
> 
> come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	8. Gonna take me longer than I thought (to get over you).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a whole lot of organic cheese (fl)uff.
> 
> alternatively,
> 
> fly me to the moon, part II.
> 
> Whoever can count how many times the word 'friend/s' is used here gets a nice virtual hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/track/1Yd40OrjA8D1F8IgMv5BFI?si=uftFY7dORTiXUt7bSXAdlA

**CHAPTER 8 - Gonna take me longer than I thought (to get over you).**

 

Friends was easy, Josie thought. It meant going to the park with your ex and her adorable, jumpy little sister, just mere days after you told her you never wanted to see her again. It meant awkwardly sitting on a park bench, at a safe distance, four feet apart because you’re just gals being pals. Quite literally. All while Penelope managed to divide her time making safe small talk with you, while looking after her sister like a helicopter parent.

 

It’s cute, Josie thinks. But in a friend way, of course.

 

It meant talking about every other butterfly topic under the sky _but_ your dating life, or your failed attempts at it. It meant noticing how the raven-haired girl would quickly avert her green-gold eyes, quell her blushing cheeks like she had just been caught, whenever you braved a look at her. It meant being dropped off by Penelope at your mom’s apartment building, no hug, definitely no kiss, just a slight hesitation, an awkward double-take, then a pained smile from the other girl, probably dying from your indecision.

 

“I’ll see you soon, Josie,” she finally says, saving you the embarrassment.

 

You nod and flash a faint smile, tell yourself it’s more for the eight-year old at the backseat shouting out “See you soon, Jojo!!!,” than anything, _anyone_ else. You then walk back to your apartment, start cooking up an excuse for another reason to hang out.

 

Because friends was easy. It meant having your best friend back, without the commitment. Without the imminent threat of heartbreak at any given moment.

 

* * *

 

 

Turns out, it takes them a whole week before they see each other again. Josie knows. She counted. Not for any lack of wanting on Penelope’s part. She had actually asked to see Josie a day after their not-so-adventure by the park. Only, she had already promised Lizzie a whole day of twin-bonding while the blonde worked her way up to forgiving their mother. Penelope asked for the next day instead, or the day after that, before quickly apologizing for being so pushy that it pains Josie to deny her thrice because she had already made plans with Caroline and Lizzie. It was a family trip after all. And Penelope Park was not family.

 

Just a friend.

 

To her surprise there was no animosity to Penelope’s reply, no snide comment about Lizzie, or mean remark about always choosing her sister above everything else. Just a curt “I understand. Have fun! Pria misses you, by the way.”

 

Penelope had stopped texting her after that, relegating Josie into a confused and antsy mess, because friends can go days without talking to each other. Hell, she went a whole seven ass months, but then again they were warring exes at the time. Now they’re just…

 

Josie finally threw away her pride on day six and had decided to ask Penelope if she had plans the next day. Turned out, she did. “Running errands, a.k.a. babysitting,” she replied. The moment Josie had sent out her “Think she’s the kind of kid who needs two babysitters?” she had immediately regretted it, face palm and all. She had started typing a follow up to take it back, but Penelope beat her to it with a “Definitely J))”

 

That’s how Josie finds herself at a grade school art class on the better side of town, cramped into a kiddie chair, and scowling at Penelope Park across a toddler-sized table, for hogging the yellow crayon, while a focused Pria colors away between them.

 

“Seriously, Penelope? It’s an interpretative portrait of me. How much yellow do you need?” Josie complains. “I don’t even wear that much yellow!”

 

With her free arm still blocking her drawing, Penelope looks up and perks a questioning brow. “You do actually. But that’s not what I’m doing.”

 

“Then what _are_ you doing?” Josie asks.

 

“What do you even need yellow for? _I_ don’t wear yellow.”

 

“You wear yellow bowties!”

 

“Just color it red.”

 

“No, it’s gonna ruin the whole color palette!”

 

Suddenly Pria’s throwing back her head and groaning because “You guys are acting like eight year olds!”

 

“Says the actual eight year old,” Penelope retorts, and despite herself, Josie lets out a giggle that elicits a grin from the younger Park. Before she knows it, Pria’s asking to borrow the yellow crayon from Penelope and she relents because who can say no to _that_ face. But instead of actually using it, she smugly passes it on over to Josie.

 

“Thank you.” Josie laughs, taking the crayon.

 

Penelope mock gasps, hisses “Traitor!” at Pria before she giggles and runs off to her drawing partner.

 

After Pria’s gone to the other side of the room of 6-8 eight year olds, Josie colors in the tiny yellow bowtie on her tiny Penelope drawing. “Done!” she then exclaims proudly, grinning like a little kid. She’d get along well with the others.

 

Without missing a beat, Penelope leans over, chin resting on her hand, and says, with her signature smirk, the most non-innocent innocent sentence of the day. “Show me then.” A sneaky blush betrays Josie and creeps up to her cheeks, because friends make each other blush with their stupid, confident, smug smiles, right?

 

Penelope must have clocked her discomfort because she leans back on her seat so fast, the small plastic chair, squeaks back in a jerk. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t…” she fumbles, embarrassed eyes suddenly interested at everything but Josie.

 

“No, I…it wasn’t, you weren’t…I just…” Josie stumbles as well, looks up at the ceiling, trying to hide her pained grimace.

 

When Penelope recovers from her own cotton mouth, it’s almost comical how fast she calls the bumbling brunette back down from her panic with a simple and gentle “Josie…”

 

She smiles at her, then. It’s shy, soft, a genuine Penelope Park smile only Josie knows of, and Josie tries to force her heart to a slow because friends definitely _do not_ get chests exploding out their body, when the other friend _just says their name_. _So carefully._

“We might need more practice at this,” Penelope says. “Jumping from girlfriends, to mortal enemies, to friends isn’t exactly easy.”

 

Josie swallows, nods, and manages a smile. “You’re right.”

 

There’s a charged moment of understanding that passes between them. Like they’re both actually genuinely ready to give this whole friendship thing a shot. That they’re not just awkwardly trying to tolerate the other. It’s solemn. A peace in the space surrounding them. One they haven’t known for a long time. It’s a warm change from their constant fighting.

 

Josie would have stayed in that moment forever if it weren’t for the suburban-looking mom in denim jeans and a cardigan, interrupting them.

 

“Good morning!” She’s standing before them, beaming grin, blonde ponytail and all. Almost as if she appeared out of nowhere.

 

“Can we help you?” Penelope asks politely?

 

“I hope you don’t mind. I noticed you’re both new here. It’s tradition for me to give the new moms a warm welcome. I’m Aster, by the way. One of the teachers here.”

 

Josie doesn’t hear her name because she’s stuck at the thought of the lady assuming they were moms. _Together._ Wives. Married. Her ears turn red. Did they even look old enough?

 

“Oh god, we’re not. I’m here for my little sister over there.” Penelope answers calmly, as if the whole moms thing hadn’t fazed her. Or maybe Josie was just a pro at overthinking.

 

She points over to Pria, helping another kid with her drawing. “Pria. See? Talented kid. Smart. Probably your brightest student,” the raven-haired continued proudly.

 

“No, of course not. You both look so young. My bad,” The woman—Aster says.

 

Then, without being asked, she takes Pria’s seat, grins again expectantly with her wide blue ocean eyes. _They’re…captivating,_ Josie finds herself thinking. She shakes it off with a crease of her forehead.

 

“Either way, allow me to still give you my welcome gift.”

 

“That’s so kind of you.” Josie says. Opposite her, she can tell Penelope’s walls are up by the way she’s leaned back on her chair, arms crossed, brows knit in curiosity.

 

“Great! So, who wants to go first?”

 

“First?” Penelope asks.

 

“Oh yes, I fancy myself as a sort of fortune teller. I’ve read everyone’s fortunes in this room. And let me tell you. Some of them?” The blonde leans in to whisper towards Josie, not too close but close enough for Penelope’s discomfort apparently. “Utterly depressing.”

 

“I’ll go first then,” Penelope volunteers rather abruptly. Delighted, Aster moves away from Josie and scoots her seat over to Penelope’s side.

 

“Hands please,” Aster offers her own, outstretched for the raven-haired.

 

“What? No tarot cards or magic crystal ball?” she questions, taking the blonde’s hands nonetheless.

 

Penelope was just indulging the overexcited woman, Josie was sure of it. She almost feels bad for her. A simple human attempting to see into the future of an actual witch. It was ironic to say the least.

 

Nevertheless, Aster concentrates, closing her eyes as she breathes deep.

 

Penelope, on the other hand is shaking her head, amused smirk dancing on her lips. She’s looking at Josie with eyes that say “Can you believe this?” and Josie has to bite down her laugh.

 

A tense beat passes while the two young girls wait.

 

As the unsettling silence drags on, the lady’s breathing grows harrowed, her chest pushes in and out heavily. She’s squeezing Penelope’s hands so tight, the other girl flinches.

 

“Are you okay?” Josie’s not sure herself if the question was meant for the woman or for Penelope. But before she can even think about scorching Aster for trying to break Penelope’s hands, the blonde jerks away. Her eyes are suddenly grey and wild with something Josie can’t quite place.

 

She could’ve sworn her eyes were blue earlier, though.

 

“Geez, was my future that bad?” Penelope’s rubbing her hands, but her tone stays light and joking, still incredulous to it all.

 

“I’m afraid I didn’t see your future, dear.” Aster says, now weirdly stoic. _What the hell is wrong with this woman?_ Josie thinks.

 

“I saw your past…I’m so sorry for what’s happened to you,” she elaborates, not really sounding sorry. Aster stands, all the while staring down a confused Penelope. “I do advise that you…take care of….” She slowly runs a hand down the left side of her own ribcage. “…that.”

 

“How?” Penelope suddenly asks. Josie’s completely and utterly confused.

 

“Stop what you’re doing. It would do well for a young witch not to mess with the balance of nature,” she says it slowly, trying to engrave the words into Penelope’s brain. And then, with a sickeningly sweet and sinister smile, the suburban mom walks away.

 

“What in the world was that?” Josie manages to say.

 

Penelope stares after her as she agonizingly tries not to react to the sudden unsolicited throbbing of her scar.

 

_Not in front of Josie._

 

* * *

 

When Josie asks her if she’s okay, Penelope laughs it off. She calls the woman “slightly deranged” and that she simply played along so she wouldn’t upset the “sickly” blonde.

 

She doesn’t tell Josie about how the woman invades her sleep every night, how her nightmares are filled of her, and of that warning: “…not to mess with the balance of nature.” She doesn’t tell Josie about the dark magic coursing through her veins or the pounding at her faded scar.

 

Instead, she pulls Pria out of the remaining 30 minutes of her art class, because she’s decided she doesn’t want her sister to be late for her piano lessons. “Look, to Professor Sy, on-time is late, and early is on-time,” she explains to Josie, trying to sound nonchalant. As if she hadn’t just encountered the witch bitch that almost killed her. Much to her surprise, Josie doesn’t push the issue, or not yet at least.

 

Penelope barely speaks on the ride to Professor Sy’s house. She distracts the reemergence of her trauma by keeping a steady eye on the road as she drives, tries to ignore Josie’s worried glances every five minutes. It’s time like this when she’s eternally thankful that her little sister _loves to talk,_ and she also apparently loves talking to Josie, who’s kind enough to follow along with every story, and answer every question the eight-year old throws her way.

 

Once they get to the house—well, manor really—Pria jumps out and excitedly greets her aged piano teacher already waiting by the front steps. Professor Sy, an intelligent old man well into his 80s, greets the two teenagers with kind eyes and a hug, as if they had known each other their whole lives. He then invites them for tea and biscuits at their library while Pria had her lessons at the adjacent room.

 

Truth be told, hiding a panic attack was never easy, but the room-full of books, running from ceiling to floor, was a start. Penelope’s not sure she can tell Josie the truth, and she’s definitely not sure if she’s ready to be stuck in a room with Josie for the first time in almost a year. So when they enter the library, she off-handedly tells the brunette that she’s just going off to skim the place. She walks away before the other girl can even get a word in.

 

Josie, to her credit, keeps her questions to herself for a good 30 minutes before finally stalking off to find Penelope in the middle of one of the stacks. She’s absent-mindedly reading the back of a book, while listening to Pria’s soft and clumsy piano playing, the careful melody of keys, a faint presence in the room.

 

Penelope clocks Josie at her peripherals. For a few seconds she’s just standing there, watching her, not exactly knowing how to start.

 

“Find anything good?” Josie finally says.

 

“Depends. Define good,” Penelope places the book back and turns to Josie. Her heart skips at the taller girl’s soft smile, then immediately inwardly curses herself. If there were a guidebook for how-to-get-over-the-love-of-your-life-because-she-just-wants-to-be-friends, Penelope would be tearing this library apart right now just to find it.

 

“Are you going to tell me what happened back there?”

 

 _I can’t._ “What do you mean?”

 

“You know what I mean,” the brunette starts walking towards Penelope while the raven-haired grips at a random book on the shelf, anchoring her in place. “Pen, you barely spoke on the ride here.”

 

“I was driving.”

 

“You could barely look at me or Pria. You were holding the steering wheel so tight your knuckles turned white.”

 

Penelope’s taken aback. She hadn’t even noticed she had done the latter.

 

“Talk to me,” and Josie’s regarding her with so much care and concern that she hasn’t seen after their break-up, it makes Penelope think that maybe, just maybe, they still had a chance.

 

It’s the exact though that pushes the next question out of Penelope’s mouth.

 

“Why do you care?” Josie’s caught off-guard, takes a tiny step back, she hesitates, then…

 

“Because…”

 

_Because?_

“…we’re friends, Penelope.”

 

_Right._

“Last time I checked friends are more than allowed to care about each other. I’m pretty sure it comes with the whole…thing,” Josie softens the blow with a smile but Penelope’s chest deflates nonetheless.

 

It takes everything in her not to shut down.  Because she promised Josie she could do this. She promised Josie anything. She promised Josie friends. She wasn’t going to run away. Not again.

 

It was her own fault that she kept on taking every silver of hope to mean something.

 

“Okay,” the smaller girl relents. “Friends trust each other too, right?”

 

Josie nods.

 

“So please trust me when I tell you that I’m fine. Can you do that for me?”

 

For a second Penelope thinks Josie’s not backing down. It’s only when she sighs that Penelope breathes again.

 

“That’s not fair. But…if you say so.”

 

“Thank you,” Penelope walks further into the stacks, gesturing for Josie to follow her. As they walk, she’s painfully aware how close their hands swing next to each other, fully knowing that reaching out and just holding Josie’s hand whenever she wanted to was off the table.

 

_Friends. Friends. Friends._

_Focus, Park! She’s outright rejected you six times in the past week alone. Get the fucking memo!_

"So…Lizzie,” Penelope says, looking to distract her internal battle. “What did she say about…” she gestures between them. “…all this?”

 

“Oh…” Josie squeaks, she starts examining the polished wooden floors they’re treading on. “Well…”

 

“You haven’t told her have you?”

 

Josie replies with a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry. Lizzie’s just been testy lately because of mom. I’d rather not fuel the fire with this.”

 

“It’s fine, Josie. I understand.”

 

And she does, because Josie will always put her family first. She just wishes their new-found friendship afforded her a status in Josie’s life beyond just being another potential reason for her twin’s meltdowns. She wishes she was worth the fight. The again if it wasn’t enough when they were dating, Penelope doubts she’ll be worth the unnecessary twin argument now that they’re only friends.

 

So she understands.

 

“When do you go back?” Penelope changes the subject, can’t take another apology from Josie.

 

“Mom says I have to be home by eight. The both of them think I’m at the town library right now, which is kinda funny because I literally am in a library.”

 

They both chuckle at that.

 

Penelope shakes her head. “No, I mean, when do you go back to Salvatore?”

 

Josie stops. Smiles a sad smile at Penelope. “In two weeks.”

 

“Honestly thought we’d have less. But two weeks isn’t so bad.”

 

A grimace flashes on Josie’s features, clearly guilty about something. “Actually, we’re going to Waterloo in two days. We’re staying for a week. Mom thinks the fresh air could be good for us.”

 

“So…we have a week…or less.” Penelope shrugs. “That’s fine. We’ll make it work. As long as you’re back by Wednesday…next, next week?”

 

“Definitely! Wait.. what’s on…” It only takes a millisecond. Josie’s eyes blow comically wide. “Oh my god, it’s your birthday in two weeks!

 

“Yup. The big 1-8.” They’re out of the stacks before Penelope even realizes it, weaving in between small study tables. She also notes how Pria’s stopped playing. Taking a break probably. “I’m not having a party or anything. I was just hoping we could…I don’t know…have dinner or something…as friends. If that’s okay with you.”

 

Penelope was not shy, nor was she ever a nervous person. She always came at everything she wanted with confidence, and just the right amount of seductive sass. But her situation with Josie right now was a whole different story. She wasn’t exactly sure how to act, or which lines she could cross. Friends spend birthday dinners (dates) together, right?

 

“I would love nothing more, Pen.” It’s the use of that nickname, and Josie’s excited, blinding smile that puts a halt to Penelope’s doubts.

 

“On one condition,” there’s a mischievous glint to Josie’s hazel eyes. Penelope thinks she could get high on her playful grin alone.

 

She rolls her eyes, fully knowing she’ll do whatever Josie asks of her. “What does Josie Saltzman want now?”

 

“Play the piano for me. Please?” She’s giving Penelope her signature pout, and of course she’s a goner.

 

_I would play the piano for you every day if you’d let me._

“Sure,” then it’s Penelope’s turn to sport a smirk because an idea pops into her head. “Come on. I think Pria’s on break.”

 

Without thinking, Penelope takes Josie’s hand and pulls her out the hallway and into the other room. Out of instinct, Josie intertwines their fingers. They still fit perfectly.

 

No one asked but they’re both quite proud of themselves for not combusting right there.

 

“Wow, really? That easy? Okay now I’m scared, I take it back, I—” Josie jokes, but let Penelope drag her along anyway as they make their way to the music room.

 

They sit together by the grand piano. Penelope realizes it’s just the two of them sitting so close, and the instrument in the middle of relatively empty, oval space. She tries not to overthink the situation. “You ready?”

 

“Are you kidding? I’ve waited almost a year for this!”

 

“Oh, I don’t think you are.” Off Josie’s questioning look, Penelope starts playing. Josie recognizes the melody in a snap before Penelope even starts singing.

 

_Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars._

Josie groans, she buries her head in both hands. “Pen, no. Anything but this please!”

 

Penelope laughs. Relents to Josie’s embarrassed protests faster than she thought she would. “Okay, okay.”

 

The music stops. Josie takes a peak at the other girl in between her fingers.

 

“It’s safe now, pop star.”

 

The brunette throws her head back. “Don’t remind me.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to play then?”

 

“Anything’s fine. Just none of the songs from the elevator.”

 

“Demanding. But fine, I think I have something for you.” Penelope pauses for a solemn beat. “When I was growing up my grandpa used to always sing this one song to my grandma. It was her favorite.”

 

She can feel Josie staring at her intently, now. Penelope vehemently keeps her eyes glued to the keys.

 

“When he got sick with tuberculosis, he taught me the song. He says it was so I could play it for my grandma when he wasn’t there anymore. Make her feel better you know?”

 

Josie nods.

 

“I learned it fast. But I only got to play it for her once. On the day of his funeral.”

 

Another pause, she lets the memories sink in, then.  “My grandma loved him so much she went after my grandpa two days later.” She finishes the thought with a chuckle.

 

“You never told me that. I’m so sorry, Pen.”

 

Penelope shrugs. “Don’t be. They were together for 67 years.”

 

Once no other words would suffice, Penelope sets to play.

 

She doesn’t tell Josie about her promise to her grandparents: that she would only play the song for the person she’d end up marrying too.

 

Maybe the promise didn't matter anymore, though. They weren’t together. But after Josie, how could anyone else compare?

 

Penelope takes a breath. Josie watches on. Her dainty, thin fingers start to dance across the keys. The melody begins slow, swirling across the air like a blanket unfurling.

 

 _Knock on my door, girl come home_  
You stay in my head  
Lay in my arms, why won't you?  
It's been way too long, what you waiting on?  
'Cause I've been here, learning what the memories won't do  
See, I need you and baby I need to  
Let down my guard and give you my scars  
Open up my heart

_We could be stars_

When Penelope starts singing, Josie thinks her voice feels like a private dance on the moon. She closes her eyes, imagines in her head. She’s selfish only for this moment.

_Rap on my window, come home_  
It's been a while, so stick around, why don't you?  
Till the end of time, say that you'll be mine  
An uphill climb, fighting what the heart really wants to do  
See, I need you and sometimes we need to  
Shed our facade and be just who we are  
All broken and torn, then we could be stars.

_Piercing lights in the dark make the galaxy ours_  
Kingdom right where we are  
Shining bright as a morning, you'll never be lonely  
Just promise you'll love me, I'm never too far  
And we'll never part  
And we could be stars

_Oh, we could be stars  
We could be stars_

As the song comes to a close, Josie’s eyes well up with tears. They run down her cheek and she quickly moves to wipe them away. When Penelope asks her later on why she’s crying, she’ll say it’s because the song makes her grandparents’ story 20 times more romantic.

 

She won’t tell her the truth.

 

Won’t tell her how scared she is that she might never get over Penelope Park.

_Oh, we could be stars, just find way to get home_  
There's space in my heart, open arms for you to run to  
Baby, close your eyes and take the leap to make-believe in fairytales  
I'll meet you there, oh yeah, I'll fall too  
See I've wanted you here, all along but my fear  
Just keeps haunting, me won't let me go  
So it's hard to say I love you

_We could be stars…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, I'm back, this was long overdue but I hope you liked it, still. 
> 
> Chapter title: lyrics from "Longer Than I Thought" by Loote and Joe Jonas.
> 
> The song Penelope sings is "Stars" by Alessia Cara. 
> 
> And listen, I know it was cheesy af but fluff to me is all cheese or nothing.
> 
> P.S. We'll find out eventually, but what do you think Penelope's overly yellow drawing was?
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	9. Nothing really feels like you (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TBH just a whole lot of exposition to move us through the next part/chapters.
> 
> This turned out longer than expected so I'm dividing it into two parts. Expect part II sometime this week.
> 
> but also
> 
> Caroline and father Park are the supportive parents we stan

**CHAPTER 9 – Nothing really feels like you. (Part I)**

 

Caroline thinks she’s finally getting through Lizzie the night before they leave for Waterloo when the young blonde wordlessly helps her prepare dinner. Josie, on the other hand, gladly uses this development as an excuse to visit a certain witch with piercing green eyes.

 

“Maybe you two can spend some time together, you know?” Josie whispers to their mother while Lizzie washes the dishes in the next room. “She’ll have to talk to you eventually.”

 

Caroline nods. Then, realizing what’s happening, she flashes her daughter a suggestive smile. “You know if you wanted to spend time with Penelope you could’ve just asked.”

 

Josie’s eyes blow wide, she sputters for a response, peeks at the kitchen to make sure Lizzie didn’t hear. “We’re just friends now, mom.”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” Caroline mocks. She stands and reaches for Josie’s coat by the door. “Friends can totally surprise their friends with a  _very friendly_ visit at 8pm.”

 

Miffed, Josie snatches the coat from her mother. She throws it on, desperately trying to eat up a growing smile. Maybe it’s the thought that Caroline approves of…whatever they are, whatever they could be…

 

If only Josie could get past the lying, and the mocking her twin, and the leaving, and yeah… despite her realization yesterday by the grand piano, maybe friends was still the best choice. For now.

 

“It’s _totally_ normal, mom.”

 

“Yep, definitely.” Caroline, honest to god, gently grabs Josie by her shoulders and directs her out the door.

 

“What…mom!”

 

“Have fun. But be home by midnight okay? We leave early tomorrow. I put some cab fare in your coat!”

 

Josie opens her mouth to protest, because no, she’s not staying out that late. Only, her mom slams the door shut so fast she barely registers the excited mischievous glint in the vampire’s blue eyes.

 

* * *

 

Unlike the last time, Josie is allowed inside the Park mansion without much of a fuss. Before she can ask the butler where Penelope is, a voice, rich and looming, calls from atop the grand staircase.

 

“Bit late for visitors isn’t it?” She recognizes the figure as Penelope’s father. Kind, brilliant, gentle, everything her mother isn’t, was how Penelope had described him before, and Josie understands now. Josie resists the urge to set herself on fire because she obviously hadn’t thought this through. What if they were having dinner? What if Penelope was already asleep? What if she was intruding on their family time?

 

However, despite his question, Mr. Park descends the stairs with a warm, dashing smile, making her think otherwise. He’s dressed handsome and relaxed in a yellow linen button down and trousers.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

 

“Josie Saltzman, as I live and breathe,” he extends his hand. Josie takes it. His handshake is firm, father-like. The brunette stands a little straighter. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard only good things.”

 

Josie blushes, despite herself. _Damn these Parks and their annoying charm._

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, Mr. Park.”

 

“Please, call me Percy.”

 

“Okay.” Josie says, intent on definitely _not_ calling her ex-s father by his first name.

 

“Does Penny know you’re here?”

 

  _Oh no._ Embarrassed, Josie starts fidgeting at her fingers. “Not really?”

 

“I see. So it’s a…” Percy leans in only slightly, looks both directions, then at Josie “…surprise, huh?” He wiggles his brows. “The romantic type. I like you already.”

 

Josie’s sure her cheeks are growing tomatoes.  “Oh no, we’re not…it’s not like that. I just—”

 

“Listen, Jojo…may I call you that?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Worth a shot,” Percy rubs his chin, careful with his next words. “I recognize that my daughter’s…quite taken by you. But the next time you pay us a visit, maybe it’s best to let her know first.”

 

He delivers it in a positively polite manner that Josie doesn’t even question why, until “My wife’s not exactly keen on surprises.”

 

And there it is. Looking back at the gala, she’d gotten a hint of Adelaide’s apparent…discontent just by the way she had stared Josie up and down like chopped liver. She had chalked it up to the older woman being protective of Penelope, but then again, the other girl had barely talked about her when they were together. At least not as much as she did her father and her siblings.

 

“Of course,” she replies, careful not to sound offended.

 

“Good. Perfect.” Percy snaps a finger at a maid passing by. “Will you please show our guest here to the library? She’s looking for Penelope.”

 

He looks back to Josie with a charming smile. “She’s been there the whole day again. Maybe you can pull her out?”

 

Josie simply nods. She fondly remembers nights when Penelope would get lost in her books, often reading them out loud to Josie while the brunette lay on her chest, completely no clue as to what was actually happening in the story, but wholly satisfied all the same.

 

When the memory starts casting a warmth at her chest, it pains her to squash it like an unwanted bug.

 

“Wonderful.” Percy says, completely oblivious. He takes her non-answer as his cue to leave. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to take Penny’s mom out on a nice long dinner after I pick her up,” he sends one last wink Josie’s way and then he’s gone.

 

She only watches after him, dumbfounded for a few seconds until the maid asks Josie to follow her.

 

“Right. Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently, it was never too late for visitors, as Penelope’s father had suggested, because as it turns out Penelope already had a few of her own.

 

The maid had left Josie standing by the doorway of the mini library. She recognizes the pale tall girl with the jet black hair from the ball, sat on a chair with her legs crossed over a table. She’s half-heartedly skimming through a book, looking very much ready to hurl it across the room.  Meanwhile, Penelope hasn’t seen her yet. Her back is turned to Josie as she’s standing, hunched over something on the table.

 

But Penelope intently reading a book while upright isn’t what catches Josie’s attention. No, it’s the girl beside her ex. _Her friend._ The brunette, who’s only an inch taller than Penelope, is leaning over whatever the raven-haired is reading, close enough for their shoulders to be touching.

 

A pestering unwanted feeling sprouts like vines at the side of Josie’s ribcage, and it takes everything in her to stomp it away. She has no right to be jealous. Besides they’re probably just friends, Josie hopes. Just like her and Penelope.

 

She starts to speak but Arden’s annoyed groan beats her to it.

 

“We’ve been at this for hours, P! Can we _please_ go now?”

 

Penelope straightens, arms akimbo. Josie wants Thing number two beside Penelope to step away a bit now that their shoulders aren’t touching. _But she doesn’t._

 

“Have you finished that book yet?” Penelope asks, frustration evident in her tone.

 

“Almost,” Arden grumbles.

 

“Then get to it already if you really wanna go to your stupid party,” Penelope says in a calm, faux sweet tone.

 

Arden rolls her eyes. They land right on Josie.

 

A sly smile—the same one from the ball—slides onto her lips. “Oh Penny," she sing-songs.  "...there’s a concerned angel by the door.”

 

Penelope’s head snaps towards Josie’s direction. Josie clocks her features. They’re unusually laced with panic, before quickly softening at the sight of the taller girl.

 

“Josie,” she greets, breathless. It’s both a satisfaction and a bother to see the smaller girl step away from the brunette beside her—who Josie now remembers as Charlotte—almost as if she had been caught.

 

“Hey, Pen.” They’re still not quite sure how to greet each other now, so instead of a light peck on the cheek much like when they were dating, or an annoyed eye roll when they were at odds, they settle for an awkward stand-off, before Penelope walks closer.

 

“What are you doing here? Is everything, okay?”

 

“My mom and Lizzie are finally trying to fix things back home, so I thought I’d…I don’t know…keep you company…or something?” Josie pauses awkwardly. “But it looks like you’re busy though…”

 

“We’re helping P with research,” Charlotte chimes in, adjusting her glasses. She sounds fueled with purpose; it annoys Josie just a teensy bit.

 

“On what?”

 

“On this thing called…”

 

“Homework!” Penelope abruptly adds, cutting Arden off. “Just…homework for when we go back to school. It’s stupid.”

 

“It is…” Arden says, intrigued at the sudden turn in Penelope's demeanor. She hasn’t moved from her spot, looking fully content with the developing scene before her.

 

“Well, now that I’m here, maybe I can help?” Josie suggests.

 

“No!” Penelope turns back to their research. She casts a spell, making all the open books on the table fly closed. They stack themselves into a neat pile between one of the shelves, and the book between Arden’s hands follows suit, practically throwing itself out of the girl’s grip.

 

“Bloody hell, P!”

 

The four girls wait until the heavy pounding of books, echoing as they fall against one another, comes to a halt, enveloping the room in stunned silence.

 

Josie’s just as bewildered as Penelope’s two friends.

 

She might not understand, but she’s pretty sure she gets the memo. She’s not wanted here. At least, not right now. She mutters a low “Sorry. I get it,” and moves to leave before she can humiliate herself further.

 

“Jojo, wait!” she feels soft dainty fingers around her arm and it’s enough to plant Josie’s panic on the ground.

 

Arden stands, seemingly amused at this side of Penelope she’s never seen before. An awkward, fumbling mess. Her mischievous eyes dart from the pair, to Charlotte who has her own, like-struck blue ones stuck on Penelope’s hand around Josie’s skin.

 

“Look, i'm sorry. We were just about to leave for a party.”

 

Arden grins, perks a brow, “We were?”

 

“Yes,” Penelope pointedly looks back at the taller girl. “Now shut up and fix your things.”

 

“Oh, okay then." Josie says in a soft whisper, still slightly out of sorts by the whole thing. "I wouldn’t want to intrude. I can go…”

 

“..with us!" Penelope almost yells. Realizing, she dials it down. "You can go with us. Please?”

 

Arden stifles a laugh. How is this the same snarky head bitch that’s got half their school wrapped around her finger? She’s determined to know Josie’s secrets, although she figures whatever it is, it’s something only Josie can do anyway.

 

“Are you sure? I won’t know anyone there.” Josie asks, half already lost in Penelope’s pleading eyes.

 

“She’s right, P,” Charlotte butts in. _Again._ She sounds more concerned than anything though. “Our schoolmates can be a bit… _much_ for her. Don’t you think?”

 

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

 

To Josie’s surprise, Penelope actually nods her head, considering Charlotte’s words. She clicks her tongue, looking back between Josie and her two friends. “You guys can go ahead then. Josie and I can just stay here.”

 

To say Josie’s stomach performed a backflip was an understatement. It was more like a somersault. Truthfully, her plan to come here did not go beyond getting past the initial security, and to her and Penelope being alone, without an overexcited eight-year old running around.

 

Arden and Charlotte turn to each other, slight panic kicking in.

 

“On the other hand,” Arden jumps in suddenly, “you could have a good time. Meet new friends. They’re not all bad. I mean it does look like you can stand P here. The other girls will be a walk in the park then. Pun intended.”

 

Confused, Penelope mouths a “What the hell?” at Arden’s unusual rapid-fire statement. She plays it cool, instead, shrugging an answer.

 

Josie thinks about it for a beat. She glances at Charlotte who's watching Penelope carefully.

 

“Why not? I’d love to meet your friends here.”

 

“Are you sure?” Penelope asks, ever so gently, it throws Arden for a loop. She’s pretty sure poor, sweet Charlotte just might truncate the blood flow from her hands with how tightly she was now squeezing them together, completely betraying the convincing, inviting smile she had plastered on.

 

Josie nods. “Just… maybe try not to leave me. I did come here to spend time with you.”

 

Penelope grins, her heart dancing despite herself, “I promise.”

 

“Great!” Charlotte exclaims.

 

“Great.” Josie mimics.

 

The two girls exchange pained polite smiles, all the while Penelope doesn’t notice. Too lost in the girl in front of her. It’s going to be one hell of a night, Arden thinks.

 

“Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

Penelope drives. Josie fails to push back the victorious smirk that forms on her mouth when she beats Charlotte to the passenger’s seat. Jealousy was the unhealthy skeleton in Josie’s closet. She knows it’s wrong to keep it at all, to let it spread when the opportunity presented itself. But being 16 and in love did not afford her enough restraint to not think like a petty child as of the moment.

 

Still, for Penelope’s sake, she scolds herself and keeps the disgusting feeling at bay.

 

When Penelope pulls up in the driveway, Josie expects loud music and teenage witches falling over their alcohol by the front porch. Instead, she finds herself back at the looming manor form yesterday.

 

“Isn’t this Professor Sy’s place?” she asks.

 

“Yes, and it looks eerily…empty.” Penelope eyes the quiet estate. A few windows were open but all the lights were out, save for the one streetlamp where they had parked their car.

 

“So you’ve met grandpappy?” Arden asks from the backseat, unfazed.

 

Then it hits Josie. She turns to face the other girl. “Pria’s piano teacher is your grandfather?”

 

“The one and only.” Arden grins her Cheshire grin. It looked oddly appealing on her. “By god, please forgive Penelope’s awful manners. I’m Arden Sy, by the way. This is Charlotte Lancaster. P’s roommates.”

 

“And closest friends.” Charlotte just _had_ to add.

 

Arden shakes her head, dying internally. Either the girl always tried too hard or too little. No wonder Penelope had barely given her a once over as more than _close friends_.

 

She’s also fairly certain Charlotte’s apparent pissing, though unintended, is starting to get on Josie’s nerves. Penelope, however, seemed none the wiser. She’s already stepped out the car, still inspecting the ostensibly empty house.

 

“Right. I’m—”

 

“Josie Saltzman. We know.” Arden interrupts.

 

Josie presses her lips together, not sure if she should be flattered or annoyed at this point. “You and everyone else apparently.”

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a bit of coaxing from both Arden and Charlotte to convince Penelope to step into the deserted manor. “It’s not like you weren’t just here, yesterday.”

 

“Yes but yesterday it didn’t look like a haunted mansion,” Penelope says.  Arden and Charlotte are on either side of the heavy double doors.

 

“Hey, this haunted mansion is my home.” Arden only sounds mock offended, placing a hand above her chest for effect. “I am proud of its aged cobblestones, and 15thcentury ghosts.”

 

“Those ghosts your only friends growing up?” Penelope asks.

 

Arden places a hand to her hip, smirking as she purrs an answer “Perhaps.”

 

“Okay, drama queens. That’s enough.” Charlotte says.

 

The three of them start laughing together, Josie feels like she’s intruding on a private moment.

 

Once they all calm down, Charlotte grips the door handle tighter.

 

“Besides, we’re witches, P. You should know that sometimes all you need is a bit of magic.” Charlotte beams. Coming from the brunette, Penelope actually flashes her a fond smile.

 

Without waiting for Penelope’s answer, the two Europeans exchange pearly white grins before opening the doors to a burst of light and over 60 witches yelling “Surprise!” in unison.

 

Some 2000s pop music immediately kicks in and Penelope looks like a deer in the headlights until Charlotte stands beside and whispers. “Advanced happy birthday, P.”

 

“You did this?” She looks to her friends in disbelief like no one in Salvatore would ever.

 

Arden shrugs. “Mostly Lottie’s idea.”

 

To her credit, Charlotte fiddles with her fingers, shy and unsure. “I know you said you didn’t want a big party but it’s your first birthday with us so I thought—”

 

“Lottie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Penelope shakes her head. “Calm down. I love it, nerd.”

 

She pulls her into a hug. Charlotte absolutely melts into her embrace like clouds on a windy morning. Josie watches the whole exchange like someone placed a ton of bricks on her chest.

 

Penelope’s new circle of friends start to crowd around her, and just when Josie starts to regret coming in the first place, piercing green eyes seek her out. There’s a silent apology to them that, despite the gaggle of pretty European girls surrounding her, still look like they only see Josie’s own.

 

Before she knows it, Penelope’s taking her hand and introducing her around the room as her best friend. It’s not how Josie had expected the night to turn out, but with the proud smirk in the smaller girl’s features, Josie can’t complain.

 

* * *

 

Once the room naturally scatters into cliques, Arden decides to stand by a corner, not exactly a party person herself. Truthfully, if it were up to her, she’d celebrate her friend’s birthday by sneaking the three of them away on a road trip to god knows where. But of course, Charlotte just had to pull out all the stops. After all, she _was_ trying to win over the girl who could potentially be the love of her life for Christ’s sake, of course Arden was going to blindly follow along.

 

Which is why she’s quite proud when Charlotte wins the hug. Deflates all the same, but not as much as her best friend, when Penelope takes her ex’s hand instead, and parades Josie Saltzman around the party like she’s the best thing in Penelope’s life.

 

So now she’s stuck in the corner with a drink in one hand, watching the raven-haired American charm every crowd she finds herself in, the same way she did seven months back when she first came into their school. All the while Charlotte relegates herself beside her, playing at the rim of her full cup, and looking like a kicked puppy.

 

“So that’s her, huh?” Charlotte finally speaks up, but only by a whisper.

 

“The breaker of hearts. Master of one.” Arden says with a teasing flourish, and okay, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say to cheer up the smaller brunette.

 

“I was going to tell her, you know? Tonight.” Charlotte reveals, bracing for something. Only Arden’s not at all surprised.  “Guess it’s stupid now,” she adds when she’s met with silence.

 

Arden observes Penelope with Josie, clocks shy hands dancing around each other like eggshells. Fingers itching to guide by the small of the back but remembering that they’re just _best friends._

 

“You know they’re just friends now, right? Maybe you still have a chance.” Arden finally offers.

 

Charlotte peaks a glance at the pair now laughing with a group of girls by the fireplace. Penelope’s eyes are absolutely glowing as she watches Josie answer a question from someone in the group. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”

 

“Come on, Lottie. They have history. That doesn’t just go away. Of course, they still care about each other. But P cares about you too. Just tell her,” she urges, completely tired of her friend’s useless pining.  “What do you have to lose?”

 

Charlotte chuckles dryly, she wipes at an escaping errant tear. Truth be told she’s thought about the answer to Arden’s question a lot and every time she does, she always finds a way to break her own heart in the process. “A lot.”

 

Arden sighs. “We’re talking about the same bitchy girl who’s rejected half the school but continues to defend you every time musty Maven and the Mean Girls take a swing at you.”

 

“Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I’m always gonna be the nerdy girl that she’ll always feel the need to protect. Like a kid sister.” Charlotte looks at her friend then, wispy defeat clouding her soft features.  “I mean, just look at her ex. She’s like…supermodel tall and gorgeous! How can I compete?”

 

Arden can almost hear her heart drop. She fails to comprehend time and again how her best friend in the entire world can’t see how utterly over the moon she is.

 

“Lottie, you know you’re amazing, right?” she says, her eyes are devoid of mischief this time. The sight is rare, but it’s possible. She looks way too serious now that Charlotte thinks she’s dreaming. “I see it. But then again, I’ve known you since we were six. Might take a bit of time for Penelope, but she’ll see you too. Just show her, Quasimodo.”

 

For the first time since Penelope took Josie’s hand earlier, Charlotte actually laughs. “Will you stop calling me that?”

 

A beat. Then,

 

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

 

Arden smiles, unfettered and truthful. Like she believes in nothing and no one but the girl in front her.

 

“Yeah, but what if she does?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: song lyrics from Back in My Arms by Carlie Henson.
> 
> come cry with me on Twitter @brigantariksas


	10. Nothing really feels like you (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder: they are teenagers prone to their impulses and their barely thought of decisions. Please refrain from wanting to kill anyone.
> 
> That being said,
> 
> here's part II :))

**CHAPTER 9 - Nothing really feels like you (Part II)**

 

Penelope clocks Josie’s discomfort the moment Aliyah from History of Magic class suggests body shots by the ping pong table. She respectfully turns them down and steers Josie away from the crowd of half-drunk, entirely too eager witches.

 

Her wish for a moment of reprieve, however, is taken away when Maven and the Mean Girls, a cheeky blonde and her posse of four, slide into Penelope and Josie’s space the moment they enter the kitchen. Their leader all but sizes Josie up like meat before completely ignoring her and attempting a seductive smirk at Penelope. The sight makes Josie want to puke.

 

“Happy birthday, Penny.”

 

“Yeah you’re still not calling me that. Also, you’re drunk,” Penelope’s says, already done with this conversation. She steps away from the counter before the taller blonde can trap her.

 

“Still playing hard to get, Park?” Maven hisses, less grit, more alcohol induced emotion.

 

Penelope simply sips at her drink, she places a hand on Josie’s shoulder blade, a tell-tale sign letting the brunette know that she’s got this. Josie tries not to shiver at the sudden contact.

 

“Aren’t you tired of getting rejected yet, Maven? If I were you, I’d try not to up the number to…” the raven-haired pauses, thinks mockingly, “…seventeen was it? It’s honestly getting embarrassing at this point.”

 

Maven fumes. She trains her eyes at Josie, gripping her solo cup full of beer, and for a moment there it looks like she’s ready to hurl her drink at the brunette, before Penelope senses the minute shift in Maven’s body language. She steps in front of Josie, all politeness chucked out the window. “Don’t you dare, Walmart Barbie.”

 

The taller blonde swallows. She retracts her arm. Without another word she twirls around toward her perplexed posse and signals for them to leave. They all follow suit like lost sheep but not without managing to mutter apologetic “Happy birthdays” at Penelope.

 

Penelope only loosens up once the group’s out of the kitchen. She leans on the counter, taking another swig at her drink.

 

“You okay there?” Josie asks, gently rubbing the other girl’s arm the way she used to when she needed Penelope to calm down.

 

“Yeah. Are you?” Her hand falls to a stop on Penelope’s arm. It all feels so simple.

 

Josie nods. “What was that?”

 

“Maven’s the head bitch in charge, or so they say. She’s just used to getting what she wants.”

 

“She mad everyone’s practically falling at the new girl’s feet?” It hadn’t escaped Josie. All the adoring eyes, tinted with wonder and following Penelope around the whole night, would almost always turn into confused, often pointed stares directed at her.  She quells the discomfort, just happy to be the one constantly at the other girl’s side.

 

Penelope thinks for a few seconds. She places her drink on the counter, reaching for something in her back pocket, and bringing out a folded piece of paper. “Here.”

 

Josie only looks at it, mildly alarmed at the deja vu. Penelope chuckles, “Don’t worry. It’s not a letter. It’s my interpretative portrait of you. From Pria’s art class.”

 

She takes it gingerly between her own fingers, blushing like an idiot. “I finally get to see what you did with all that yellow crayon.”

 

Penelope’s tight smile gives away her nerves, but before Josie can find out why, she’s suddenly reminded of her own art project,

 

“Oh my god, I totally forgot yours at mom’s apartment.”

 

Penelope answers with an unbothered shrug. “It’s fine, Josie. I didn’t exactly tell you we were exchanging here, did I?”

 

Josie nods. _Point taken._

 

She moves to open the drawing, then looks up at an expectant Penelope. She thinks it’s adorable how uncharacteristically nervous the smaller girl looks right now after watching her play up her usual charming, magnetic demeanor the entire the night. So of course, the only right thing to do pops into her head at that exact instant. Josie bites the side of her cheek and decides to keep the girl on her toes for now by keeping the unfolded paper inside her own pocket instead.

 

Penelope raises a brow in question.

 

“I’ll save it for later. We’ll open them once I give you mine.”

 

Penelope’s sure her heart swells an extra ten-fold.  She rolls her eyes good-naturedly to keep herself from doing something stupid, like throwing everything to hell and kissing Josie right this second. “You’re such a loser.”

 

“An adorable loser, who could really use a drink right now.”

 

“What makes you think I’m getting one for you?”

 

Penelope regrets asking because of course Josie uses _that_ pout and _those_ pleading eyes, and she’s already gone. To her credit, she does last a good 30 seconds, staring down captivating puppy dog eyes, before caving like she always does.

 

“Cheater.” She grumbles half-heartedly, ambling away towards the drinks table right across the kitchen.

 

Josie leans a hand over the kitchen island, grinning in victory. Her win is short lived when she almost falls over in surprise at the sound of her name.

 

“Josette Saltzman!” It’s Penelope’s friend again. The tall one. The one with the unusually pretty mad-hatter smile. She has a hand on the counter, leaning on one side

 

“Arden..ette Sy?” Josie wants to slap herself because befriending Penelope’s friends on her own was never her strong suit.

 

Thankfully, Arden doesn’t deem her weird and socially inept just yet, just scrunches her nose in a way that reminds her of Penelope’s adorable habit, only it’s somehow less appealing on the girl in front of her. Or maybe she’s just biased.  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Having fun?” Arden steps just a little closer.

 

By instinct, Josie’s gaze flits outside the kitchen door in search of green eyes. She finds her laughing along with yet another group of doting witches, ignores the butterflies dancing in her stomach. “I guess so.”

 

Arden hums, snapping her out of her daze. She has a knowing smirk on, the kind that acts like she knows absolutely everything. It’s never settled quite right with Josie ever since she first met her, armed with her prying quip at the ball weeks ago.

 

“Sometimes I’m scared she’s too charming for her own good.” Arden makes a show of picking out a cheese puff from the chips bowl and popping it into her mouth. “Considering you’ve been here before, would you care for an official tour of the place?”

 

“I’m okay. Pen should be back any minute now.”

 

Arden remains unfazed. She nods towards Penelope’s direction, signaling for Josie to do the same. “Seems to me, she’s a bit preoccupied.”

 

Suddenly, the pesky butterflies in Josie’s stomach are angrily rushing up her chest in droves at the site of Charlotte leading Penelope away from the group, and out from Josie’s point-of-view.

Her legs want to follow, but the rest of her body reminds her of how creepy that would look. Her mind follows suit, scolding her for thinking that she had the right to feel this way. Penelope was allowed to have her own friends, talk to them, laugh with them, run off for a quick bathroom tryst with them (maybe) even if she had promised to bring Josie back a drink.

 

That house tour sounded like a good enough distraction right now.

 

She forces a smile, tries to come off unbothered as she turns to Arden. It doesn’t quite work. Josie finds, though, that she doesn’t really care. “You know what? Sure, why not?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Much to her surprise, Arden wasn’t the bad company she had expected. She speaks with the allure of a café on a cold night, all grace and confidence. Granted, the ‘tour’ was less of an all-access expedition of the manor, and more of a slow walk out the kitchen, and up a flight of stairs that Josie’s sure should lead back to the library.

 

She tries her best to appease Lizzie’s texts asking where she is. She eventually gives up the third time her twin tells her to come home because “Mom and I have made up, ok? Put down those stupid books and come celebrate with your family, Josette.” Josie leaves her phone on silent, turning off the vibrate feature, and lets Arden’s stories drown out the instinctual nagging at the back of her mind to drop everything every time Lizzie calls for her.

 

Arden’s a talker, that’s not much of a shock. Josie ends up learning more than she thought she would. She learns that when Penelope first arrived at their school, she was all snark and mean quips, yet refused to actually have a proper conversation with her roommates. She learns that Arden and Charlotte practically had to annoy Penelope into telling them her last name, her age, what part of the U.S. she was from, why she moved a whole other continent. She learns that eventually Penelope gave up on acting like she didn’t care when Maven and her posse turned Charlotte’s pen’s into snakes in the middle of class as a harmless ‘joke’, learns that Penelope retaliated by seducing Maven into one of their school’s deserted bathrooms, before leaving her high and dry, and locking her in with fake magic spiders crawling up and down its four walls.

 

She learns that Charlotte’s never quite acted the same around Penelope ever since, decides not to comment on the slight bite at Arden’s tone when she says it. She learns that her and Charlotte have known each other since they were children. She learns that she would do absolutely anything for the smaller girl. Learns to squash at the slight alarm that builds up her body, because all she can think of is _same_.

 

For her part, Josie provides Arden with the basics. She reveals that she has a twin, that they’re both siphons, that her mom is a vampire, her dad’s many things, and that before her and Penelope officially became friends four years ago, she let Josie wordlessly sit with her in the head witch’s secret spot in the library every day for an entire week, after her and Lizzie got into a particularly damaging argument.

 

“I found it by accident the first time.” Josie explains. “The second time, I didn’t think she’d be there anymore. I kept on coming back after because I felt like it was the only place where I was allowed to really cry and be angry. She never said anything, just picked out the funniest books she could find and read them out loud in these weird, animated voices to get me to stop sulking. I hadn’t exactly realized what she was doing until she went from reading ‘Great Expectations’ to ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ in the span of 10 minutes.”

 

Josie finishes her story with a fond laugh, while Penelope’s round, nasally Sam-I-Am impression echoes like a ridiculous pop song in her head. She’s only a little embarrassed that she divulged so much to a girl she just met.

 

“So you’re part of the Gemini coven?” Arden asks, bursting her bubble. With the bundle of facts Josie had laid out, she didn’t think the other girl would latch onto _that_ information.

 

“Yeah, we are.” Josie answers cautiously.

 

Arden only nods, seemingly mulling it over. Josie thinks she’s going to say more but the girl surprises her once again by jumping into a whole other tangent altogether.

 

“Penelope Park had half the school at her beck and call by her third day, you know?” Arden says. They turn another corner, and judging by the paintings on the wall, Josie’s fairly certain that this was definitely the hallway that led to both the library and the music room.

 

“I’m not surprised. Everyone thinks she’s special.” Josie finds herself saying.

 

“Do you?” Arden stops in her tracks and so does Josie’s brain. Not for the first time that night, does the pale girl take her by surprise.

 

“That’s…complicated.”

 

Arden leans on the wall behind her. She tilts her head, as if analyzing Josie’s words. The brunette has never felt more scrutinized.

 

“Is it really?”

 

Josie challenges Arden’s stare, refusing to let her win at whatever game she was playing. “A lot’s happened.”

 

Arden shrugs her know-it-all shrug, and Josie can’t believe her ears. She can’t believe the audacity at which Arden speaks her next words.

 

“She could have anyone. Charlotte’s particularly…smitten. But then again, it’s hard to really see anyone else when you’re perpetually stuck on someone who’s 5000 miles away. Now here you are, _the Josie Saltzman,_ just 10 feet apart, and you just wanna stay friends.”

 

“What are you implying?”

 

Arden pushes of the wall, she steps forward only slightly, straight back, stoic face picking at Josie’s calm.

 

“That as long as you’re around dangling this whole friends thing at her, she’s never going to get over you.” There’s no animosity to her words, just a vile certainty reminding Josie that she will eternally hate how everyone thinks they know better than her. “She’s only going to get worse when you leave for the US again.”

 

Josie looks away, she wants to argue but her voice comes out weak and positively unsure. “You said it yourself. She could have anyone. She’s probably already moved on.”

 

Arden scoffs, stands akimbo. “Please, she’s still obviously in love with you.”

 

Josie’s heart jumps at the thought, crashes immediately at the realization that she can’t let that be true. Not when every time she thinks of letting herself have Penelope, all that follows is the image of the other girl walking away again, light on her feet, and breaking her heart for what will probably feel like the hundredth time.

 

 “Stop talking like you know everything.” Josie’s tone manages to retaliate only by a feather.

 

“Don’t believe me? Why don’t you start by asking your _friend_ about our little…homework.”

 

Again, Arden throws her for a loop because what the hell did their high school research paper have to do with her self-diagnosed wounded soul?

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s simple, Josie.” Arden continues to regard her like an innocent, subservient child who should really just listen to her. “You really care about Penelope? You’re either with her, or you let her move on.”

 

Josie wants to scream, wants to set the hallway on fire because who was this haughty stranger to tell her what to do, or who to be or not be with? Who was she to taint her way into the steady friendship bubble her and Penelope had been slowly but surely growing?

 

She doesn’t get to prove her wrong though, because before she can even open her mouth to say something that’s not _Ignalusa_ , Arden’s already gesturing toward the half-open doors of the music room while she walks away with a winning smug smirk.

 

Josie doesn’t want to indulge her especially now that she’s gone, doesn’t want to find out the ending to this little game Arden had dragged her into. But her thoughts are spiraling, and it would kill her not to know, so she forces the 10 steps on hesitant legs and peeks inside the room.

 

She braces herself for wandering hands and feverish kisses, but Penelope and Charlotte aren’t even making out. They’re just standing there, holding each other for dear life. Charlotte’s face is buried into the other girl’s neck, arms wrapped around Penelope’s shoulders and fingers digging into her shoulder blades in a tight embrace, while Penelope has her own wrapped protectively around Charlotte’s waist.

 

Somehow, the sight is more intimate, somehow Josie’s heart shatters more than she thought it would. Because Penelope’s not a hugger, not when it’s anyone other than her little sister, not when it’s not Josie.

 

She doesn’t stick around for the rest of it, and silently brisk walks back where she came from.

 

When she’s sure the two girls won’t be able to hear her, she bolts across the party, doesn’t pay mind to the whispers and the intrigued looks, nor the wet prickling feeling that’s starting to well at her eyes. 

 

Because despite how much she despises the girl, maybe Arden was right. Maybe the only thing keeping Penelope from being happy with someone else was her endless indecision, her inability to completely trust, yet her constant want to keep Penelope to herself anyway. It was selfish. But if there’s anything Josie was good at; it was rearranging herself to fit everyone else’s needs.

 

* * *

 

 

Penelope rushes out of the party in a frenzy the moment she hears whispers of Josie leaving the manor all alone and into the cold night. She takes her car and drives slowly, eyes alert, roaming up and down empty streets for a tall brunette.

 

She sees a figure walking down the side of the road just 10 minutes away from the Sy’s estate. Penelope’s tense shoulders relax at the sight of Josie. Her worry doesn’t go away though, once she glimpses the state the brunette was in: head down, arms hugging her body, with the flickering street lights as her only guide.

 

Careful not to startle her, Penelope flashes her headlights once, rolls down her window, and pulls the car beside Josie, driving at her pace.

 

“You wander out in the dark often?” She tries to keep it light, but the taller girl doesn’t even acknowledge her presence, just continues sulking as she walks.

 

“Josie what are you doing?”

 

“Getting some fresh air?”

 

“In the middle of nowhere?”

 

“I can do what I want to.” It’s that tone, that closed-off bite that brings Penelope back to seven months ago in Salvatore when Josie couldn’t so much as stand to be around her. It throws Penelope at a complete loss, but whatever happened, she’s obviously not ready to talk about it yet. Penelope decides not to push, just wants Josie safe inside with her.

 

“I know you can. But you could have just told me that you wanted to leave. Come on, I’m driving you home.”

 

Josie spares her a glance but ambles along anyway.

 

“Josie.” When it’s clear that she has no intention of getting in, Penelope stops the car altogether. “What happened to trusting each other?”

 

This finally catches her attention. She looks back to Penelope, opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it. “Lizzie needs me.”

 

It sounds rehearsed, robot-like, as if the excuse were routine now that Josie doesn’t even work for it to be convincing. She’s clearly upset about something, and honestly, Penelope’s just about ready to hex whoever hurt her, but not without making sure that Josie was okay. So she coaxes on, speaks to her in a soft, inviting voice only ever reserved for the brunette.

 

“Okay, so why not get in the car so you can get home faster?”

 

Josie seems to take a double-take at that. She examines the long dark street ahead, then turns back to Penelope. The battle in her head doesn’t last long because she huffs in exasperation and wordlessly walks over to the passenger seat.

 

She keeps her arms crossed, her thoughts to herself, staring out the window the entire ride. Penelope knows not to force it, just lets the radio crackle fill up the silence.

 

...

 

It’s almost midnight when they reach the front of Caroline’s apartment building. For her part, Josie’s ostensibly calmed down within the duration of the drive. It’s obvious when her next words don’t hold as much bite. But still, Penelope thinks the defeated sadness laced on both her features and in her tone hurts more than any spiteful remark. The worst part is, she’s not even sure how to fix it.

 

“Go back to your party, Penelope,” she steps out of the car, fully intent on making a beeline for the front doors, when Penelope calls out for her.

 

“Okay, hold on!” Penelope has to stop herself from shaking, feels like, somehow, this is all her fault. “What just happened?

 

Josie proves her right, looks down at her shuffling feet as she answers. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Charlotte and your lovesick minions miss you already.”

 

 _Charlotte?_ Charlotte who had just confessed her not so secret feelings for Penelope earlier. Only, Penelope had let her down gently, told her she deserved someone whose entire being didn’t already belong to someone else.

 

“Is that what this is about?”

 

With a party full of drunk, loud witches, the rumor mill tends to spin fast. Who knew what kind of messed up, inaccurate version managed to make its way to Josie. Then again, she couldn’t understand why the other girl was so upset in the first place. Wasn’t she the one who had insisted on the whole friends thing? Something Penelope hadn’t been keen on herself, because how do you only stay friends with someone like Josie Saltzman?

 

But she was  _trying. For her._ Now it only feels like she’s failing, disappointing the other girl once again, so she throws caution to the wind. Thinks to lay it all out there.

 

“God, Josie, when are you going to realize that no one else matters?”

 

For a second, Penelope thinks she’s getting through. But the surprised, soft expression on Josie’s face morphs into a determined stoic one, not a second later.  “Maybe that’s the problem.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re stuck, Penelope. On…this. What are you gonna do when I go back to Salvatore? You can’t just keep on pushing people away. You can’t move on like that.”

 

Penelope’s sure something snaps in her heart. She’s floored.

 

Granted, she knows she’s not subtle, knows her lingering stares give away the feelings she’s so desperately been trying to hide away at the deepest crevices of her chest. She just never thought Josie would use it against her.

 

Her blood boils at the fact that the brunette is acting like she hasn’t been doing the same, like she hadn’t just run off alone into shady empty streets at the thought of Penelope with someone else.

 

“Right. As opposed to you having moved on?” Penelope points out calmly.

 

Unexpectedly, Josie’s lips curl into a small, worn-out smile. It’s not fair how beautiful she is under the lamp light, not fair that her next words make it sound like she doesn’t know just how much she means to Penelope.

 

 “I just want you to be happy, Pen.”

 

“That’s really something _you_ want?” Penelope asks, heart on her sleeve now.

 

Go figure. God only knows how everything she’s done the moment she met Josie was to make her happy, to ensure that she _gets_ to be happy, even if she isn’t the reason anymore. Past 22, past the age where she starts to forget what Penelope’s perfume smells like.

 

Josie can only nod.

 

“Okay.” Penelope replies, finding herself pleading next with a quiet “So stay.”

 

At that, the taller girl’s smile crumbles. She looks like she’s about to cry, whispers instead, “It’s not that simple.”

 

Penelope shakes her head. She _knows_ it’s not simple, yet she chooses to fight anyway. Then again, winning at this meant a battle for two, and Josie was never one to stand by her side when things got rough. At least, that’s what _this_ feels like right now.

 

“You know what the problem is, Josie? I’m not stuck. You’re just scared to want something and actually go after it.”

 

Josie can’t help but look appalled. “Not this again.”

 

“What’s gonna happen when you turn 22, Josie? When you’re still catering after Lizzie’s every move.” Penelope picks, and maybe she shouldn’t have because she can practically see the walls closing over on Josie yet again at the mention of the twins’ fate.

 

Then again, to say she was tired and had given up on speaking with the little patience she had left was an understatement.

 

“You don’t know anything that’s happened the past 7 months.” Josie retaliates, there’s a spitting heaviness to her statement that must demonstrate her point. “You left. You don’t get a say. You only get to run like a coward, Penelope.”

 

Penelope takes a sharp intake of breath, she knows what’s coming, can feel the pain already before it even starts to prickle. She answers through gritted teeth. “That’s not what I did.”

 

“Oh really? Is this the part where you tell me about your ‘homework’?”

 

“My…” Penelope schools herself, tries to quell the panic rising. “…it’s for school.”

 

“That’s not what Arden said.”

 

“Arden? Since when do you listen to her?”

 

“Since she made some very valid points.”

 

“What did she say exactly?” Her eyes narrow in disbelief at the sudden turn of information. She instantly regrets ever asking her two roommates for help in the first place.

 

“Not much, ok? Just that you’re still…that you’ve been stuck on this little research of yours, and I really don’t know how that relates to me but I swear to god if it’s anything like your creepy spy book, Penelope, I’d rather not hear about it.”

 

“It’s not.” The raven-haired closes her eyes, breathes in once. Absolutely exhausted.  “Josie…I can explain.”

 

“I have to go inside, Lizzie needs me,” she dismisses Penelope, turns again to escape into the safety of her mother’s apartment.

 

“Oh my god, when are you going to live for yourself for once? Do what _you_ want?”

 

Josie pauses. Clearly frustrated herself, she turns back to hit Penelope with a pointed answer, but only manages a half flickering fire in her eyes to support herself. “It was _my_ decision to go home. _My_ decision to be with my family, and make sure things don’t fall apart further than they already have.”

 

“And you pushing me away?”

 

Josie swallows, fiery anger already retracting at sight of a gutted, defeated Penelope in front of her.

 

“I’m not,” she says almost unconvincingly. “But this is my family, and they’re important.”

 

There it is. Clear as day. Penelope hears what Josie doesn’t say.

 

So she understands.

 

A beat passes.

 

They can only stare at each other, shared, broken down, knowing smiles that say there’s nothing else left to fight for here. Not for tonight, at least.

 

When Penelope doesn’t say anything, Josie turns, grips the handle of the apartment entrance, only breaks down into quiet sobs once the elevator door closes.

 

Penelope is left standing out in the cold, lonely night. Her shoulders slumped, a horrible pain imminent.

 

Just like that, Josie’s gone again.

 

Two steps forward. 3000 steps back.

 

Penelope bites at her cheek, forces herself to snap out of her daze. The scar helps. She rushes back to her car, doubling over in pain as her closed wound suddenly returns with a vengeance. It’s like white searing heat pressing at her insides.

 

She’s starting to sense a pattern here.

 

Penelope gives herself a minute or 15 to pull herself together.

 

When she does, she doesn’t return to the party. Instead, she does what she does best every time she loses Josie like this. She drowns herself in work to make sure she doesn’t lose her forever. It’s a good distraction anyway.

 

Blame it on impulse, or on her perpetually broken heart, but Penelope decides to start with the one lead she knows could actually result into something remotely helpful, no matter how dangerous or how many times Caroline had threatened her against it.  

Once Josie and her family leave for Waterloo the next day, she tracks down the witch bitch with the blonde hair and stormy grey eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Caroline gets the call on their third day out, at 3 in the morning. She doesn’t hear anything at first, just gusts of wind crackling from the other end.

 

Then, she hears her, just barely over the static. Penelope.

 

The young witch only manages a single, truncated whisper, pained and out of breath before the line cuts off.

 

“Scar.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally hit rock bottom folks. You know what that means?
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas


	11. But every sin, I did it for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything kind of moves in fast forward to set up Posie in the next chapter.
> 
> also
> 
> I love the Park siblings, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood: https://open.spotify.com/track/1MQwg2JTIHjdsOHUR6bdso

**CHAPTER 10 – But every sin, I did it for you.**

 

Penelope only remembers seeing her when the pain starts to dull. Puppy dog eyes, concerned pouty lips, angel face. She’s been here before, paralyzed on the cold hard floor. Only this time, there’s no frantic, blonde vampire desperately telling her in a muffled voice to keep her eyes open. It takes everything in her to speak into the phone, and once she does, she slips into the darkness calling out for her and her burning lungs. She thinks she wants to tell Josie she’s sorry for failing her, right before she closes her eyes.

 

Careful blue eyes are watching over her with concern from the window, the third time she wakes up. It’s not so much easing out of sleep as it is being flung into wakefulness. Her body jolts upright, and the vampire is right beside her in a blink. It takes a minute or two for her heaving to die down. Caroline gets her water, tells her to go back to sleep.

 

She doesn’t. Her mind’s on full overdrive, while attempting to fathom how she was still breathing at all after the dark magic inside her had practically imploded in her chest at the snap of Aster’s fingers.

 

Thankfully, Caroline waits for her to calm down before she speaks, ever so gently. “Penelope, what happened?”

 

Penelope’s head snaps from the white sheets covering her legs to the woman sitting on a chair beside her bed. It’s only then that she registers where she is: at Caroline’s apartment, in the same room she had borrowed right before the twins arrived. And she should really have her priorities fixed, but still, she can’t help but answer the blonde with a question.

 

“Do they know?”

 

Caroline’s forehead creases in confusion. It takes her a second to understand who ‘they’ are, before shaking her head.

 

“They were sleeping when you called. I left them a note.”

 

Penelope nods, pensive. “I’m sorry. You should get back to them.”

 

Her body’s buzzing with a dull ache. It hurts, but not enough to keep her here. She tries to move her legs out of the bed, but Caroline holds one down, coupled with pointed blue eyes that tell her she’s not leaving anytime soon.

 

She huffs defiantly at that. “Thank you for getting me out there, but I’m fine now, Ms. Forbes.”

 

She’s not sure how it’s possible, but right now the vampire definitely scares her more than the witch in her nightmares. “I found you knocked out on the floor of your school’s library. Penelope, you were barely breathing when I got there. You’re not fine.”

 

Penelope has a rebuttal ready, but she quickly realizes that she doesn’t have enough energy in her to argue with the truth. She groans instead, crosses her arms for good measure as an act of protest, but stays in bed nonetheless. Caroline doesn’t press her on what happened, after that. Just waits until she’s ready while the older woman cooks her breakfast in the kitchen at six in the morning.

 

Once she is, the memory comes crashing back in droves. Caroline sets down her omelet on the night stand. She holds Penelope’s arm, doesn’t comment on her shaking voice, hangs on to every word instead.

 

Completely ignoring her food, she tells her about the constant throbbing in her scar. Tells her about the encounter with the same witch that gave it to her back at Pria’s art class. She admits to spending the past three days trying to track Aster down, while avoiding any mention of her fight with Josie right before. Much to her dismay, she reveals that she came up with practically nothing until last night when the witch, herself, had found her instead.

 

She’s sure Caroline’s face goes through at least seven different emotions as her story progresses, it’s only when she gets to explaining the pain in her scar that the vampire actually tries to lighten the mood.

 

“So what? Like, Harry Potter?”

 

Penelope shakes her head, chuckles despite the situation. “I don’t think that’s how Harry Potter’s scar works.”

 

“So how does it?”

 

“Well you see, when Voldemort—”

 

“No, Penelope, not the stupid tiny scratch on Harry Potter’s forehead. I’m talking about yours. Remember? The huge one that’s practically taking up half your left ribcage.”

 

“His lightning bolt scar is cool and not at all stupid,” she answers, sounding like an offended book nerd.

 

Caroline only glares at her even more. It looks so much like Josie’s that she rolls her eyes.

 

Penelope sighs, taps at the place where her wound should be, through her shirt, as if doing so would make explaining the whole thing easier. She’s never heard or read of _that_ kind of magic before, that trying to make sense of the concept sounds foreign to her tongue when she says it out loud.

 

“That spell she did right before she disappeared a few months back? It basically turns any…emotional stress I feel, and it…amplifies it into physical pain.” Penelope pauses, somehow manages a grimace. “Can you believe I can _literally_ feel my heart breaking? I feel like the punching bag character to a stupid YA plot.”

 

She thinks the whole thing sounds so ridiculous that a bitter laugh escapes her lips. “Witches love their consequences, don’t they?”

 

Caroline, on the other hand, doesn’t find anything funny with it at all. She takes her time mulling over the new information, letting it simmer. She’s careful not to say anything that would definitely put the young witch under distress. “So, if you’re not allowed to feel any emotional stress, does that mean I can’t get angry at you for disobeying me, lying to me about your scar, doing something dangerously stupid, or all of the above?”

 

Penelope grins at that. Never had she thought there could actually be a pro to the dark magic crawling in her veins, but there it was. “Guess it’s also the perfect time to tell you that I may have provoked witch bitch into almost killing me.”

 

Caroline blanches. Penelope can almost hear her grinding her teeth together in frustration. “You what?”

 

“Look, I just…I couldn’t understand why she was trying so hard to stop us from finding a loophole. I guessed at some stuff. That’s it. I didn’t think they would actually hit a nerve. Then she just snapped…like literally she snapped her fingers and then…well—” she gestures to herself, stuck in bed, half her body heavy with pain.

 

“You’re really something else, kid,” Caroline says, pinching the bridges of her nose, obviously trying hard to contain herself from yelling at the reckless witch.

 

“Speaking of kids. You should really get back to yours.”

 

It’s when Caroline doesn’t answer, head down, eyes shut in concentration, that Penelope’s sure the vampire’s debating over the unspoken predicament in her head. She knows it’s coming. Quite frankly she can’t believe Caroline kept their secret this long. Still, she ends up protesting as best she can when the blonde says it out loud.

 

“We have to tell them everything.”

 

“Not everything.”

 

Caroline stands, starts pacing the room. “Penelope they’re going to find out eventually. With the way I left?”

 

The raven-haired vehemently shakes her head. “Tell them about the witch, and me helping you. Fine. Just not about the scar.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

She sighs, catches Caroline’s distressed blue ones. The blonde stops her movements, clocks that sad, resigned look on the young witch’s face, hates how she’s seen it enough times to recognize it at a glance.

 

“Your daughter’s selfless to a fault. I don’t want this to be another burden Josie feels like she needs to carry.”

 

In the end, Caroline agrees, letting Penelope tell Josie about her scar on her own time. The latter insists on going home before her family starts to get suspicious, urges for Caroline to do the same if she doesn’t want to get on Lizzie’s bad graces again.

 

“It’s not even that bad on the outside. It’s just like internal bleeding, okay?” She’s lying, of course. Half her body’s pounding, but she’d rather the twins don’t find out this way. “Besides, my driver’s picking me up.”

 

“You think internal bleeding’s all sunshine and rainbows?” Caroline’s clearly not too keen on the idea.

 

“I’m just putting things into perspective.”

 

She’s stubborn about it, but the vampire eventually caves when Penelope honest to god threatens to run around their apartment to prove that she was perfectly fine, save for a few scratches on her elbow, and on her right brow.

 

They part ways after a few hours, when Penelope’s driver pulls up, but not without a motherly warning to cement their conversation from earlier. “Don’t even think about looking for her again or reading up on you-know-what without me. Got it?”

 

Penelope raises a brow, the one without a cut. “You-know-what?”

 

“I’m just being careful. We don’t know how she manages to keep on following you without you noticing.”

 

“Point taken.”

 

There’s a short beat. Just when she thinks Caroline’s ready to leave, she does the unexpected instead. She wraps Penelope in a tight embrace. The young witch is so taken aback that it takes her a few seconds to reciprocate the hug. “I love all my kids equally, but you can all be so dumb sometimes.”

 

Penelope tries to school her surprise at the insinuation the moment Caroline pulls back and gives her a determined look. “We’ll find that blond bitch, Penelope. We’ll fix this too.”

 

There’s an unfamiliar warmth glowing in Penelope’s chest. It feels a lot like the affection she should be getting from her own mother.

 

* * *

 

Waiting for a reaction from the twins, if they even cared to give one, turns out to be absolute torture, almost trumping the pain Aster had put her through. Penelope assumes Caroline plans on revealing three-fourths of the truth only after their vacation in Waterloo, but that doesn’t keep her from nervously glancing at her phone every five minutes. It doesn’t make it easier that her body’s still sore from the event that she’s now deemed as ‘The Witch Bitch Strikes Back.’ She does, however, keep her promise, avoiding cracking open one of the many books they’d both collated over the past months.

 

When the weekend comes, Penelope starts to get antsy with anxiety, and the pure empty agony of staying idle and doing nothing. So, she decides to distract herself with just about anything she can find. She tries meditation, but while she’s normally an expert at keeping her cool, she’s also not the best at sitting still. She tries fencing with her siblings, even lets the help join in, but their butlers are flimsy with sabers, Paxton’s too infuriating, and Pria’s somehow found herself a new witch pen pal, who they all guess must be a friend from her grade-school. When the eight-year old isn’t busy burning hand-written notes to send to her friend, she’s gotten into the habit of folding up tiny paper cranes that all end up lying around different parts of their house.

 

Soon enough Pria gets their dad on board. Come Sunday afternoon, she finds the two of them hunched over the table in his office, intently manipulating paper with their nimble fingers. Which irks her just a little bit because when she had asked Pria if she could help, the younger witch only shook her head and casually walked away, full attention on her crane. It doesn’t bother Penelope for too long, though. She convinces herself it must be a father-daughter thing at school. She is, however, rendered dumbfounded when she wakes up Monday morning to their mother mindlessly folding up yellow paper cranes over breakfast, while reading the morning newspaper.

 

“You too?” She asks, incredulously as she sits down.

 

Adelaide glances her way, smiles a little, before turning back to her paper. “Your little sister can be _very_ persuasive.”

 

She doesn’t say more than that. Penelope eats in silence. Her phone continues to follow suit.

 

There’s still no word from Caroline or Josie when Tuesday comes. The day before her 18thbirthday. Penelope’s ready to crack and just call the vampire herself, if it weren’t for Charlotte’s visit. The brunette brings her a gift and bears an apology from Arden that Penelope can’t quite accept just yet. Nodding in understanding, Charlotte tells her she wants to celebrate her birthday now since she’s scheduled to leave town the next day.

 

They sit in the garden. She confesses that she’s still heartbroken, but that she’ll get over it, just wants Penelope in her life in whatever way she can. She also tells her she hopes one day she can find someone who loves her the way Penelope loves Josie, and although she doesn’t mean it to, it strikes a painful chord in Penelope’s soul.

 

She masks it with a shrug, tries to come off nonchalant but her next words are anything but. “Pretty sure she’s the love of my life…” her eyes widen when she hears her own statement, stutters while she attempts to lighten up the declaration “…or, I mean….you know…whatever.”

 

“Who would’ve known the aloof, snarky, head bitch, would be so freaking soft for an oversized teddy bear.” Charlotte giggles. Penelope can’t help but laugh along. The moment is short-lived when Charlotte looks at her with a knowing, melancholic smile.

 

“Are you hers?”

 

Slowly, Penelope’s gaze drops, remembers their last encounter, remembers she can never compare to Josie’s family. Her throat is caught up at the thought, so, she doesn’t answer out loud, just shakes her head the slightest bit.

 

Charlotte gets the hint, drives their conversation to lighter topics. They talk until dinner time and the brunette has to go home.

 

The morning of her 18thbirthday’s just like any other day. She wakes up from yet another nightmare, but thankfully manages to compose herself before Pria excitedly bursts into her room with a cupcake and a song. They spend the morning in Penelope’s bed, gingerly picking at the pastry while Pria folds paper cranes on her older sister’s bed.

 

The rest of her family greet her at lunch where they serve all her favorite food. Her parents give her an expensive jewelry set as a gift, before leaving for their business meeting in Hong Kong. She’s been told of the trip a month in advance, so Penelope doesn’t mind. She’s actually really grateful they respected her wishes and kept her birthday as quiet and as non-eventful as possible. Then again, she did think she’d be spending the whole day with Josie, just over a week ago.

 

It’s one in the afternoon when everything finally comes crashing down.

 

She gets a birthday greeting from Caroline through text, followed by an “I told them right when I got back to Waterloo last week. I hope that’s ok.”

 

And Penelope should be thankful that Caroline cared enough to greet her, but her next message only makes her stomach drop. In a span of two minutes she convinces herself Josie fully hates her for keeping this monumental a secret from her and wants absolutely nothing to do with her anymore. Hence, the radio silence. So much so that she can’t even find it in herself to greet Penelope on her birthday. Her scar naturally kicks in after that, surprising her with one hell of a birthday gift of its own.

 

She’s learned to breathe through the pain by now, reminds herself of Aster’s words.

 

_Not enough to kill you. Just enough to torture you. Slowly. Everyday._

 

Despite the obvious signs, her mind isn’t anything but persistent. It’s pitiful but she finds herself spending the rest of her birthday on the front steps of their mansion, phone in hand, waiting for something, _someone_ beyond their arched gates, the fogged moon, and the night’s white noise, her only company.

 

“Never pegged you for a damsel in distress.” Paxton says, sitting down next to her. It’s 10pm, Penelope guesses when she sees her brother already in sweatpants and a navy silk pajama top.

 

“Shouldn’t you be trying hard to be less annoying on my birthday?”

 

Paxton shrugs. “I can’t. It just happens naturally.”

 

Penelope spares him a glance, and of course his hands are also busy with yet another paper crane. She opens her mouth to ask Paxton about it, but the older boy beats her with a question of his own.

 

“Aren’t you tired of waiting around for this girl? It’s getting quite pathetic, Penny.”

 

She knows she should retaliate with her perfect Penelope Park snark, but she thing is, she finds herself agreeing. It is pathetic. How she waits, hopes, even when the world has told her ‘no’ a thousand times over. Penelope tries to turn things around, instead.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be worrying about how you’re going to keep your boyfriend? Noticed the midnight calls are starting to…dwindle. Are the time zone’s getting to him?” she scrunches her nose like a little shit, clocking a flash of something akin to vexation in Paxton’s features.

 

To his credit, Paxton just laughs it off, confident in his next words as he leans over to Penelope in a whisper. “We’re working it out.”

 

Penelope nods, actually feels happy for her brother. “Good.”

 

They let the silence envelope them for a while. For a minute, Penelope’s content, if only slightly.

 

“So, what’s on your mind?” Paxton breaks the silence. He never was one for dead air, always the loudest out of the three of them.

 

Penelope shakes her head, grumbling “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

 

Paxton scoffs, lightly bumps Penelope’s shoulder with his own. “Sure it is.”

 

He sounds so uncharacteristically sincere that Penelope takes a deep breath, airs out the one thing on her mind since she moved to Belgium.

 

“It’s just,” she pauses, turns her head low “…no one ever told me that love could be this lonely.”

 

She says it in a soft whisper that when Paxton doesn’t respond with anything outright, she’s convinced he didn’t hear it at all.

 

They only stare at the moon for a beat. Penelope wonders if the great, grey ball glowing alone in the night sky feels the same way.

 

Paxton finally proves her wrong when he takes a deep breath before answering. “Permission to go all big brother on you?”

 

She chuckles, rolls her eyes affectionately before nodding her approval.

 

“One day, you’re going to find someone who’s going to work it out with you, every step of the way. No matter what shit you go through. Either this girl finally proves she’s that person, which---” he gestures to the empty, open front gates, devoid of any signs of Josie Saltzman. “Or you let yourself move on.”

 

He hands her the finished paper crane. Penelope takes it, all the while hating how right her brother sounds.

 

“Happy birthday, Penny.” Paxton stands, kisses her on the forehead. “Good night.”

 

* * *

 

Paxton’s words echo through her head the rest of the night that she finds it impossible to sleep. Hoping to bore herself into slumber, Penelope decides to read up on the World Atlas in their library. She’s nowhere near close to her goal when Pria walks in, half-asleep, a paper crane in one hand, and a blank sheet of parchment in the other.

 

“Penny, what are you doing here?”

 

“I should be asking you that. Why are you up so late?” She gestures for Pria to sit on her lap. The smaller girl decides to occupy the chair opposite her instead. “I was folding.”

 

“You gonna tell me yet what those are for?”

 

Pria yawns, shakes her head. “—s’ a secret.”

 

Instead of folding more cranes though, she brings out a pen and scratches a quick note onto her empty paper, before muttering a spell that incinerates her message into thin air. Penelope shakes her head, how are they already teaching eight-year olds this sort of advanced stuff in grade-school?

 

“Fine. Will you at least tell me your pen pal’s name?”

 

Pria flashes her the most adorable sleepy, cheeky grin. “That’s a secret too.”

 

She gives the eight-year old a look that only elicits a happy giggle from the girl, before deciding to let it go. The two sisters sit in silence for a few minutes until a new letter shows up in Pria’s hand.

 

“That was fast?”  Ignoring her sister, Pria quickly opens the note. “What kind of eight-year-olds are up at 11 in the—”

 

She’s cut off by a loud gasp from Pria, who jumps off her seat like she’s just been offered a lifetime supply of cotton candy.

 

“Oohhh you’re in trouble,” she sing-songs, throwing Penelope a toothy smile.

 

“What are you talking about?” Absolutely perplexed out of her mind, Penelope just sits there, ever so patiently waiting for her eternally overexcited little sister to explain further.

 

Instead of doing so, Pria’s head snaps at the knock on the library doors. She runs towards it, announcing “I’ll get it!” as if she’s not already rushing to do so.

 

She opens the door only slightly and steps out to exchange hushed whispers with whoever’s on the other side. Penelope cranes her neck trying to hear what her sister’s gotten herself into. But then she hears tiny footsteps skipping away from the library, and that’s when Penelope stands up, worried her sister had been brain washed by a certain witch bitch.

 

Except it’s not Aster, or her imposing grey eyes, that walks in. It’s Josie’s fiery brown ones scowling in anger. Penelope almost falls off her chair.

 

“Penelope fucking Park! What the hell is wrong with you?” She hisses, chest heaving like she had just run a mile a minute to get here.

 

Too shocked to say anything at all, Penelope opens and closes her mouth but nothing coherent comes out. She clears her throat, wills herself not to squirm at the terrifying look on Josie’s livid angel face.

 

“What are you doing here?” She finally manages to ask.

 

“What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?”

 

Penelope scoffs. She can’t help the irritation sneaking up her neck at Josie completely ignoring her for the past week, completely knowing what she knows now, then suddenly showing up at 11pm, full on questioning her existence in her own home.

 

“This is my house.”

 

Josie seems to backtrack at the that, her scowl turns into a pout, sputtering as she tries to come out with a reply. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

Penelope steps closer, patience running thin. “What _do_ you mean?”

 

“Just that…” as if she finally found the perfect rebuttal, Josie’s fury returns in her coffee, brown eyes. Except her voice comes out shaky this time, like her throat is on the verge of falling apart. “You almost died! And now what? You’re back to doing the one thing that almost got you killed? Why do you have to be so stupidly stubborn, Penelope?”

 

She’s somehow moved further into Penelope’s space in her riled-up state that they’re only five feet apart now.

 

“I—wait, how’d you even know what I was doing?” she asks, eyes narrowing.

 

Josie looks down at the floor, crosses her arms in a comforting gesture. That’s when Penelope notices the crumpled-up piece of parchment in her hand. The same one Pria had just used to write on not a few minutes ago. Then it finally clicks.

 

“Have you been exchanging letters with my little sister this whole time?”

 

She doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but Josie flinches, all the same. Penelope’s not sure what to feel anymore. She’s at a complete and utter loss. She can’t understand how Josie can freely easily pen letters back-and-forth with her sister in secret, while completely being fine with acting like she didn’t exist for the past 7 days.

 

“Yes---but…that’s not the point.”

 

“So what is? That you’ve finally decided to grace me with your thoughts after a whole week? Because I definitely didn’t just sit around for days, scared that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” Penelope says, not expecting herself to get this vulnerable so early on.

 

Josie lifts her head, there’s regret in the way her lips fall ever so slightly as she slowly uncrosses her arms, whispering “That’s not true.”

 

It’s moments like this, with Josie looking so scared and unsure that Penelope wants to cave, wants to forget about everything else for an hour and just wrap the taller girl in her arms, tell her it’s all going to be okay in the end. And she would have, if she hadn’t just spent the past week gradually sinking into a pit of hopelessness with every day that Josie had willingly let pass in agonizing silence.

 

The raven-haired takes a deep breath, too gutted for yet another potentially damaging gainsay this late, and on her birthday, no less.

 

“Look, Josie.” Penelope calms, too tired. “I don’t wanna fight. Especially not tonight, so if it makes you feel any better, I kept my promise to your mom,”

 

She picks up the heavy hardbound book on the table, lifts up the cover for Josie to see. “I’m reading the freakin’ Encyclopedia. I couldn’t sleep.”

 

 “Oh—” Josie squeaks flushing red with embarrassment. “Well…you’re still in an idiot.”

 

She’s well-aware they’re dancing around the obvious elephant in the room, but the corners of Penelope’s lips are defenseless against the adorable, defiant girl before her. “Only for you, Jojo.”

 

Josie’s features completely soften along with the beat that envelopes them.

 

Acknowledging the stalemate, Penelope sits back down, glances expectantly at the stunned brunette. “So, are you gonna join me or?”

 

Penelope can only imagine the inner turmoil stirring within Josie as she struggles to speak. “B-but I just yelled at you for no reason.”

 

Penelope let’s out a soft chuckle at that.

 

“Yeah, you did. You also let me sweat it out for a whole week. What’s new?”

 

When Josie’s face falls, Penelope quickly glosses over her words before the other girl can start apologizing for a past that she’s long forgiven her for. “You came all this way, didn’t you? And it’s still my birthday. Indulge me.”

 

She doesn’t wait for an answer, just cracks open her book and pretends to continue reading about France. She’s practically given her a [world of chances](https://open.spotify.com/track/43d2EGsaPYPebWyop8r6Rl) at this point, all Josie had to do was take just one.

 

There’s an excruciating pause before Josie disappears from her peripherals, shuffling around as she tries to find a book on the shelf nearest to Penelope. It doesn’t take long before she hears the brunette pull up a chair, occupying the seat beside her, open pocket book in hand.

 

They exist in silence like that after Josie settles down, air-condition humming in the background. Realistically, only two minutes pass, but for both girls, it almost feels like a whole torturous hour of reading the same sentence over and over. Penelope’s certain she can talk about how Monaco was the smallest independent city-state after Vatican City, in her sleep.

 

She braves a glance at Josie, peeks the uncertain frown sitting on her lips. She quickly averts her eyes when the brunette steals a look back.

 

They awkwardly clear their throats. To both their surprise it’s Josie who breaks the humdrum silence.

 

“Happy birthday, Pen,” she greets in a small shy voice.

 

Penelope closes her eyes in frustration because she missed her. Her entire body does. The urge to hold Josie close feels as natural as breathing, as waking up lighter after a rough night. Only she can’t, has to remind herself she doesn’t have that privilege anymore.

 

She hums an answer instead, peeks over at Josie’s unturned page. There’s only one thing to do in awkward situations like this. She sucks in a breath, leans a little close so she can clearly tell the text on Josie’s book.

 

“What are you doing?” Josie’s breath hitches at Penelope’s miniscule movement. Instead of teasing the taller girl about it, Penelope flashes her a cheeky closed smile before reading out of her book in her loud, exaggerated, nasally Sam-I-Am voice.

 

Josie gasps, bites her cheeks to keep herself from laughing, but when Penelope ups the ante to include the most ridiculous facial expressions, she loses the battle and dissolves into a mess of giggles, as Penelope breaks out of character along with her. Their laughter fills the stale library with a life it hasn’t known in quite a while.

 

They fall over each other, too caught up in the moment to care about boundaries. As if compelled to, Penelope reaches out for the corner of Josie’s upturned grin, reveling in the smile she had deprived of herself for so long, now so close to her own.

 

“There it is.” She says, a soft smile playing on her own lips. Her thumb is barely grazing Josie’s skin, touch light as a feather, but it sobers the other girl up all the same.

 

Suddenly, her hiccupped giggles turn into hitched sobs, bright angel face breaking at the seams. The sound bounces off hollow library walls. Josie’s evident outburst amplifies by a thousand.

 

“I’m so sorry.” she just barely manages through tears, and Penelope’s there in a heartbeat. She stands, wraps her in a tight embrace, all the while feeling her own scar riot at the sight.

 

“Jojo, it’s okay.” She whispers shakily, kissing the crown of Josie’s head, doesn’t even try to wipe at the tears falling down her own cheek.

 

She can feel Josie shake her head against her stomach as the dam breaks loose.

 

“I-- I...didn’t know...what to do.” She bawls in distress. Violent sobs rack Josie’s body, her arms sink around Penelope’s waist, fingers digging against her back as if begging her not to leave.

 

Penelope can only hold her tighter, closer. Whisper “It’s ok” over and over while the love her life drowns the room in tears.

 

This is how Penelope's birthday ends: with the two girls melded so close into each other for first time since their break-up. 

 

Only this time Josie doesn't let go. Maybe not ever.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: song lyrics from Worthy of You by Plested.
> 
> Come cry with me on twitter @brigantariksas
> 
> Also, a spotify playlist of all the songs I've used in this fic so far:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1oi6DCBJHUn8ov6FaH9iFw


	12. I see oceans in your eyes, it makes me scared.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing happens tbh. They just sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/track/6r2JV75tE0vNgNCv4HKsBC

**CHAPTER 11 – I see oceans in your eyes, it makes me scared.**

 

When Josie wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night. Her eyes are stinging and heavy from having literally cried herself to sleep. She sits up disoriented, squints her eyes to try and make sense of where she is. The bed is big, carries sheets thick and soft as clouds, but it’s also relatively empty given its size. No one should sleep in a bed this huge alone, Josie thinks. She also thinks that if she were in a crime movie, this was the moment when the abducted and confused victim would start to panic after she wakes up in a completely unfamiliar room.

 

But then it hits her. Expensive perfume, akin to something like jasmine and sandalwood. It smells like sweet whispers on a rainy afternoon, like Penelope in a sweater, and a book in hand, while Josie just…listens.

 

_Penelope._

 

It’s then that the hours before barrel into her like a freight train. She remembers the message from Pria. Just one line like she’d asked her. “She’s in the library again.” Remembers fumbling over her jeans and rushing out the apartment with a steely determination, both angry and utterly terrified. Remembers yelling at Penelope only to find out she’d hastily jumped to conclusions like the absolute idiot she was. Remembers getting flashbacks to the other witch making her laugh in the Salvatore library with her nasally, cartoonish impressions.

 

Remembers her heart crashing when gentle fingers ghost over her lips, green eyes regard her with so much kindness and patience as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life. As if she hadn’t just treated the girl before her like Satan on high-heels, pulled her in when it was easy, pushed her away whenever it got too real. Remembers her mother’s words echoing in her head like a sad song. “All she ever wanted to do was save you.” Remembers holding on to Penelope for dear life, asking for forgiveness for what feels like a whole hour, getting carried away bridal style, soft, warm sheets, falling asleep from exhaustion, a feather of a kiss to her forehead.

 

Now, she’s awake. In Penelope’s room, half her body tucked safely away. Josie’s convinced she doesn’t deserve this kindness, this warmth. She wants to scream or throw a fit. Her lungs fill with bricks at the thought. Quite frankly she would have, just let out her twelfth breakdown that week right there, if the single shadow of a moonlight spilling in from the window didn’t direct her attention to the couch to her right. To the body softly sleeping in it.

 

Almost like a magnet, Josie swings her legs out of bed, quietly, shuffles towards Penelope, and kneels on the polished floor beside her. She lifts her hand to shake her shoulders but pulls back before she can even touch. Her mind debates on whether it would be kinder to let her sleep or wake her up at a godforsaken hour and ask her to move back to the comfort of her own bed. She doesn’t get to a decision though, when Penelope starts to stir. She wakes up considerably fast. Josie clocks the flash of worry in Penelope’s eyes when the raven-haired girl sees her, pulling her body half-up, drowsily.

 

“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” Penelope asks in her gravelly sleep voice while rubbing her eyes awake. The shivers it sends down Josie’s skin is entirely inappropriate for the situation.

 

“I’m fine. It’s just…why are you sleeping on the couch?”

 

Penelope blinks twice, answers her like it’s most obvious thing in the world. “So you could sleep on the bed.”

 

She looks genuinely confused that Josie wants nothing more than to drag her into bed. To sleep. Naturally.

 

“Pretty sure your king-sized bed’s big enough for the two of us,” she counters instead.

 

Penelope shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d want to wake up like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

The shorter girl looks down, suddenly sheepish and unsure. “Like…beside me.”

 

She’s never seen the innately confident girl so sorely defeated and insecure that Josie curses herself with the manpower of a hundred navy ships. Her face falls at the thought that literally all the pain Penelope must be going through is all because of her. And okay, maybe there was a time when she had wanted that. Wanted Penelope to feel the same devastating utter heartbreak she had put Josie through. Wanted to step all over all her advances like she had stomped on Josie’s heart. But now knowing why she had done it in the first place? To say she was at a complete loss was an understatement. To say she didn’t want to both slap Penelope and kiss her senseless at the same time was definitely a lie.

 

Both of which didn’t seem too appropriate right now. So, she settles for what Penelope has always deserved from her. Josie Saltzman with her heart on her sleeve.

 

“That’s not true.” Josie whispers much like the way she had in the library earlier. “I always slept better beside you.”

 

Penelope’s head shoots up at that, and Josie’s not prepared for hopeful piercing green eyes to stare back at her this close, that they end up just drinking in each other’s gazes for a good five seconds. She can almost hear her fast heartbeat pounding in her ears.

 

A beat passes.

 

It’s Josie who drops her eyes first. She clears her throat, tries to lighten the mood, but falls completely short. “I mean…also…you kind of owe me, you know?”

 

Penelope’s brow quirk up in intrigue. “I do?”

 

Josie nods hear head, immediately wants to hit herself in the face for what she says next. “For keeping a secret and all and… _wow_ I sound like a bitch right now, and you almost died. I didn’t mean to use that, I just…”

 

“Josette Saltzman,” Penelope gasps in an almost scandalized tone, completely ignoring everything else that had spiraled out of Josie’s mouth. “Are you guilt-tripping me into falling in bed with you?”

 

Blood rushes up Josie’s cheeks so fast like a vengeful bitch that, in a panic, her mouth starts to say words before her brain can even catch up. All of a sudden, she’s pushing herself up from the floor, pacing back and running her hand through her hair while she continues to spew out incoherent babble in hopes of landing on a sensible response. She hears herself say “To sleep” and “not like that”, and “it’s 1am” but doesn’t really understand what exactly comes of it.

 

She only slows her movements when she hears Penelope stifle a laugh. The older girl is properly sitting on the sofa now, socked feet planted on the floor. She’s wearing sleep shorts and a white sweater that’s just a size too big for her, mussed hair and sharp cheek bones softening under the moonlight. It makes Josie’s knees weak.

 

“I’m kidding, Jojo.”

 

Almost comically, Josie sinks on the edge of the bed, buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. “It’s not funny, Pen.”

 

Josie stays there like that for a few moments until she feels the mattress dip. She raises her head to Penelope settling into the left side of the bed.

 

“Are you going to join me or not?” Penelope pulls the sheets on her legs before pushing over the other half to pat at the space beside her, signature smirk playing on her lips. As if the insecure version of her didn’t just make a guest appearance not three minutes ago.

 

“Gotta get those eight hours of sleep, right?” she continues. And of course, she seals it with a wink that has Josie’s head reeling.

 

“I hate you.” Josie says it with a fond eye-roll and a light chuckle, but Penelope reacts with a grimace still at the familiar words. She schools her features, quickly masks it with a slight tug at the corner of her lips.

 

“I know.”

 

Josie breathes in deep before crawling back to the bed. She can’t help but notice how Penelope’s chosen to situate herself just a few inches off the bed, because of course, despite the teasing jokes and her literally almost dying, her decisions still revolved around making sure Josie felt comfortable and safe.

 

It takes everything in the brunette to lay down on the other side, flat on her back, and to just…stay there.

 

“Good night, Jojo,” she hears Penelope weakly say from her left.

 

Like a sacred routine broken, it’s as if the cold sheets between them start to scream in protest. And Josie’s heart constricts, because when have they ever shared space like this and done nothing but fall asleep to the warmth of each other’s skins?

 

Now, Penelope feels like a million miles away from across the bed, and not for the first time that day does Josie blame herself for being so blind.

 

“Night,” she says it so quietly she’s not even sure Penelope hears.

 

Josie doesn’t sleep though. She doesn’t even try to close her eyes, just stares at the ceiling, brain too hard-wired on the thought that if she took the other girl’s hand, it could only end two ways. One, she doesn’t pull away. Two, she does and it’s awkward for the rest of the night, Josie won’t be able to sleep from the sheer humiliation, but they’ll most likely act like it never happened in the morning. Honestly, either of the two didn’t sound too bad. Friends held hands while they slept right?

 

She’s not sure how much time passes but she starts to tap her fingers restlessly, nervously. Soon, she decides on just letting it be because Penelope was probably asleep by now, and consent was of the essence. Josie moves to place her hand on her stomach instead, but before she can even lift a finger, she feels a pinky reluctantly brush against her own. The ghost of a touch disappears just as fast, but she can still feel the warmth of Penelope’s hand just inches from her own.

 

Out of instinct, she reaches out, ends up intertwining their pinkies together. The rest of Penelope’s hand twitches at the contact, and Josie, for the life of her, starts to spiral again. She takes it to mean that the brush from earlier was entirely an accident and of course, she had read too much into it and now she was making the girl beside her uncomfortable, and this was all too ridiculous. She feels 14 again, itching to hold Penelope’s hand beneath the lunch table. It’s insane how a feather of a touch from Penelope Park can just…undo her.

 

Josie starts to lift her finger off of Penelope’s to try and remedy the situation, maybe play it off as an accident. But as she does so, two fingers gently hold her pinky down in an embrace. Josie’s breath catches. What happens next plays out in slow motion, like something out of the movies. It’s as if their limbs are caught in a slow high school dance, shy and unsure but silently begging with want, anxiously inching in for that foot-popping moment. It’s a whole 30 seconds of fingers fumbling in the dark, retracting and pulling, and diving back in until finally, finally, their hands slot into place, fingers fully intertwined like puzzle pieces. Penelope’s hand is cold. Josie’s is embarrassingly sweaty. It couldn’t have felt more perfect.

 

A smile finds its way on the taller girl’s lips as she continues to stare up at the ceiling. Beside her, she hears Penelope let out a long audible breath. It’s silent for a few seconds. They revel in each other’s touch, hands wanting to melt into the other, until Penelope clears her throat.

 

“It’s quiet,” she notes.

 

Josie’s too dazed. “Yeah”

 

“Not that I’m complaining but I was kind of expecting a whole crowd to start cheering.”

 

“What?”

 

“You know, like a live audience reacting in those sit-coms like,” Penelope rounds her voice in a breathy, whispered shout.  “Yeah! They finally did it!” She lifts their joined hands in a lazy wave before letting them fall into bed again with a soft thump.

 

There’s an awkward minute of Josie just processing.

 

Until a laugh bubbles out of her throat so loud she can hear it bounce off the walls. She slaps her free hand onto her mouth to try and quiet herself before she wakes someone up, like the birds outside. When she turns to Penelope, the other girl is already looking at her with a proud, blinding grin.

 

Then it comes to her in a snap, in that quick miniscule moment. Josie’s suddenly sure of two things:

 

One, she doesn’t deserve Penelope Park.

 

Two, she was more than ready to spend the rest of her life fighting to hold her hand at the end of each day if she had to.

 

Normally the comet of a thought should have scared Josie. Only, to her own surprise, it doesn’t. Just envelopes her with a sense of unbridled calm.

 

She doesn’t tell her though. Not yet. Not when part of her mind was still screaming from Caroline’s revelation from last week. With half a heart, Josie realizes she has to ruin the moment as her smile drops into a frown. Penelope catches her sudden mood change like a hawk.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Josie swallows, takes on a somber voice, asks the question in a sad whisper, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

Penelope’s taken aback for a second.

 

She looks away but squeezes Josie’s hand. “You didn’t need to know.”

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

She keeps her eyes on Penelope as the other girl mulls it over.

 

They take a moment, or five.

 

“It means I wanted you to become the best version of yourself. That strong, brave, independent girl I know you have in you.” Penelope looks back at her then, brandishing a sad smile.  “Away from what anyone else thought. From Lizzie, from your parents…especially from me.”

 

“But I was _so_ awful to you,” the brunette replies with a shaky voice all but ready to lose it. Because what do you do when the one girl you’ve forced yourself to hate, to think of as evil and selfish, turns out to be the complete opposite, to be selfless only for you, turns out to still be the same girl you fell in love with two years ago? How do you take back the names now circling around the school, the angry jabs and spiteful words, the moments you ignored her, the countless times you walked away, the ‘I hate yous’ you never really meant?  

 

“I wasted so much time trying to hate you for so long when all you were really trying to do was save me and Lizzie,” silent tears betray Josie as they start to roll down her cheeks. Penelope shrugs, tries to make her smile again.

 

“It was mostly for you,” instead of laughter, a sob breaks out into the still night. Penelope cups Josie’s cheek with her free hand, catching the brunette’s tears.

 

“I called you a coward, Penelope. And you just let me.”

 

 “Because maybe I am,” she answers without hesitation. Penelope doesn’t even flinch, no anger or resentment, just one worn down smile. “Maybe I’m doing this because part of me is scared to let myself just have someone I could lose in the end.”

 

Josie places her other hand atop Penelope’s, leaning her face into the familiar warmth of the shorter girl’s touch. She’s drawing her thumb back-and-forth across Josie’s cheek bone, trying to wipe away her errant tears. It tickles a bit. It makes her feel safe.

 

“You’re not going to lose me,” she tells Penelope softly, like a promise only meant for the two of them.

 

That’s when Penelope’s face breaks, strong façade overtaken by fear and failure. A tear escapes her own eye. Then, a whispered confession brought about by habits of loneliness: “So, why do I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at?”

 

Josie wipes away the single tear on Penelope’s cheek, finds it in her hurt to chuckle. “Because you’re wrong and you’re an idiot, Penelope Park. We both are.”

 

A slight pull tugs at the corner of the other girl’s lip. “Only for you, remember?”

 

A stillness settles over them. For a few seconds all they do is stare, drink in each other’s eyes, squeeze a hand held in theirs, wipe away tears that aren’t their own.

 

It’s at that moment, with Penelope just inches away from her, breath tickling her own, that Josie realizes just how close she was from never even getting this moment at all.

 

“I almost lost you and I didn’t even know,” and god, she should be embarrassed that she’s breaking down in front of the same person for the second time that night, in the span of just three hours. But this was Penelope. Much as she tried to deny the raven-haired’s affection for her, she knew full well she could let the dam loose for days and Penelope would just sit there and hold her.

 

And that’s exactly what she does.

 

“Oh, Jojo…” with their held hands, she pulls Josie in. It’s like a repeat of the library. Josie sinks down onto Penelope’s neck, cries rivers on her collarbones until the floodgates run out. Half of her feels like she can’t breathe, the other half, the one she lets Penelope soothe with familiar kisses to her crown, feels like drifting away like this forever on a magic carpet ride.

 

They wait out the night until Josie’s sobs die down into sniffles, the casted moonlight having moved an inch or two.

 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll remember to tell you next time,” Penelope suddenly jokes, because of course she does.

 

Josie sniffles with just the hint of a laugh. “There better not be a next time.”

 

The silence that follows rings through Josie’s ears. She feels Penelope’s chest lift in a heavy sigh, already knows it’s one thing her and Penelope will have to fight about in the future, decides neither of them deserve a new argument late in the night. Honestly, she’s just glad to be sure that she finally has something worth fighting for. So, she calls a truce in her head, finally falls asleep for the first time in a week. Falls asleep to the rhythm of Penelope’s breathing, gentle and fully alive.

 

“Good night, Josie.”

 

* * *

 

Penelope wakes up slow. She lets her eyes adjust to the morning light, before feeling a weight on her body. There’s an arm possessively wrapped around her waist; smooth, long legs entangled with her own, long brown locks spilling over her chest. Josie all but mounted onto her. And sure, Penelope’s skin was half pins and needles more than anything, but never had she woken with a tranquil sense of calm ever since their break up. She closes her eyes again, ingrains the moment in her head like a vivid dream, until her senses finally tune in to a small voice talking to their left.

 

“then you just do it like that.” Pria is sitting cross-legged on the bed, yellow unicorn pajamas on, seemingly in the middle of an origami demonstration. Her student? An amused Josie Saltzman.

 

“Ok, no, go back.”

 

Pria groans in playful annoyance. “You know, you actually need your hands for this, right?”

 

“What’s going on here?” Penelope chimes in. The youngest girl’s face breaks into absolute delight at the sight of her awake.

 

“You’re up!” She plants a quick kiss onto Penelope’s cheek, while Josie looks up at her with an apologetic smile. It’s there, surrounded by her two favorite girls does she only realize that her sleep had actually been devoid of any witch bitch nightmares the entire night, for the first time.

 

Penelope’s sure this is what pure, unadulterated bliss feels like.

 

When Pria pulls back, she proudly brandishes the crane she was currently busy with.

 

“I’ve been trying to teach Jojo how to make one but she’s just watching,” she turns to Josie with a pout that could definitely rival the brunette’s own. “You’re not gonna learn like that. Mommy always said, practice makes perfect.”

 

Josie snickers on her chest, she never wants this moment to end. “I will, Pria. I promise. Just give me five minutes, okay?”

 

The eight-year old sighs in resignation, looks to her sister with a teasing twinkle in her eye. “She says you’re too squishy.”

 

Penelope gasps in indignation. “I am not squishy.”

 

Pria squeezes her cheeks. “Yes you are, Penny.”

 

Josie squeezes her side. “Yes you are, Pen.”

 

Penelope fondly rolls her eyes when an unprompted squeal jumps out of Pria’s mouth. Her head whips back-and-forth from Josie to Penelope like a light bulb had gone off her head, when a shit-eating grin fills her features.

 

“I think I hear Paxton calling for breakfast,” the smaller girl even puts on a show, straining her ears to the door, before she’s suddenly shuffling off of Penelope’s bed.

 

“I didn’t hear anything.”

 

“You need to get your ears checked, Penny,” Pria says matter-of-factly before rushing out the door with an excited squeal.

 

“Wha-” the door shuts before Penelope can even express her confusion. She feels something tickling at her feet, lifts her head as far she can with Josie on top of her. Finds about seven finished cranes littered on her bed. Her head hits the pillow with a sigh. Why did she even wonder?

 

“And she just left her cranes again.”

 

“Do you know what they’re for?” Josie asks.

 

“No idea, but we should probably get up for breakfast too,” she says, with no actual intention of moving a single limb.

 

“Mmm, just five more minutes.” Josie sinks further into her, pulls at her waist closer as if there were even any space left to fill. Still caught in a sleepy daze, the taller girl buries her head in Penelope’s neck.

 

She’s almost sure she only imagines it, but she feels plump lips meet sensitive skin, and a sharp rush shoots down Penelope’s body. Her heartbeat picks up by a thousand.

 

Josie pulls back, nestles her nose on the spot where she had kissed Penelope, not fully aware of what she’d done.

 

Well, up until she is.

 

“Oh my god!” she lifts herself off Penelope in a snap, eyes wide, cheeks red as tomatoes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t do that….I mean I did but…”

 

“Josie…”

 

“Friends kiss each other on the neck right? Like, by accident maybe. It happens.”

 

“So that was an accident?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Penelope quirks a brow. “You just accidently lifted your head and brushed your lips against my neck.”

 

“Yes. Ok, fine, no. But…”

 

“But it’s a thing friends do, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“We’re really sticking to that?” Penelope deadpans, masking her amusement, she slightly pulls herself up on her elbows, and Josie stutters, still fully hovering over the shorter girl. Their faces are too close, and with Josie’s leg resting on top of Penelope’s, she’s sure the image was a compromising position she would not want her overzealous little sister to suddenly barge in on.

 

Fine, they weren’t doing anything, but the butterflies causing a frenzy at the pit of Penelope’s stomach begged to differ.

 

There’s a tense beat.

 

Then, a phone rings, cutting through the silence and breaking the spell.

 

Josie all but completely jumps off Penelope, ostensibly scouring the sheets for her phone in a bid to distract herself.

 

“Just…hold on.” It takes her a minute, but she finally finds the offending sound on the nightstand.

 

“Who is it?” Penelope asks, leaning over but keeping her distance. She watches anxiously as Josie’s expression slowly turns from focused, to something she can’t quite place. The fact that she swallows down like a scared puppy doesn’t help.

 

“A text from my mom.”

 

“Oh, you should probably head home.” Penelope says, trying not to sound too disappointed.

 

“Yeah, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

Josie looks sheepish, can’t even meet Penelope’s gaze while her fingers fiddle with her phone. “She wants you to have lunch with us later.”

 

When Penelope only responds with blown, green eyes, Josie quickly adds. “You don’t have to if—"

 

“Sure.” She doesn’t know what comes over her. Maybe it’s the other girl’s adorable stuttering, or maybe being this close to Josie Saltzman makes her feel like she can take on just about anything, but she agrees with a nonchalant shrug, certain she’ll regret it later on once her and Lizzie are throwing knives at each other.

 

“Sure?” Josie looks up, half in surprise, half in utter confusion.

 

“Yeah, friends have lunch with their mom and sister, right?” she casually inches closer towards Josie until their noses are only a breath away. She can feel the other girl tense up, though she doesn’t dare move.  “It’s normal.”

 

She’s fully aware that Josie’s doe brown eyes are trained on nothing but her lips, and she’d do it right then and there, just take what she’s always wanted, what she’s feverishly dreamt of for the past year. But that step wasn’t hers to take anymore, not when Josie still insists on using the ‘F’ word every hair-tearing chance she got.

 

So, instead, Penelope does what she does best. With a knowing smirk, she dips down, plants a feather of a kiss on Josie’s neck. It’s light and wholly _friendly,_ Penelope smugly thinks to herself. When she looks back up at Josie, the brunette has her eyes closed, lips parted, as if yearning for more. Penelope has to physically stop herself from giving in.

 

Instead, she bumps their foreheads together, whispers, “We should go.”

 

Josie opens her eyes as she pulls away. Penelope gives her a cheeky smile to find.

 

“Maybe I deserved that,” she somehow manages with a shaky breath while visibly fighting to steady her chest.

 

When Penelope just laughs it off part of Josie wants to ask if they were sure that that one, golden, intoxicating sound wasn’t the cure to the merge altogether.

 

“Come on.”

 

And as the older girl stands, looking angel-like in sleep shorts, an oversized sweater, socked feet, hips swaying in her wake, sunlight illuminating her features, gorgeous as her favorite flower, Josie’s eternally positive:

 

She’d fold a million paper cranes if it meant getting Penelope Park back, and she’ll be damned if anyone even tries to get in her way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: song lyrics from "scared" by Jeremy Zucker.
> 
> come talk to me on twitter @brigantariksas
> 
> sometimes i pull out sneak peeks out of my ass on my private @penelopeparkman
> 
> comments left below are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Good night.


	13. Don't cut the lights, just take it slow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, a slight lesson in Filipino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This is entirely a filler chapter based on the pov of the Park's senior housemaid (who may or may not reappear later on.)
> 
> I needed to write from a fresh perspective to combat my writer's block, and this was the result.
> 
> It's super short and nothing important happens TBH. And i actually mean it this time lol.
> 
> P.S. If you feel like reading the perspective of a random new original character will take you out of the story, feel free to skip this purely frothy and fluffy chapter.
> 
> otherwise, have fun!

**BONUS CHAPTER -  Don’t cut the lights, just take it slow.**

 

Ida has never had to ask her cooks to whip up vegan pancakes in her life, precisely because in all her 25 years as the Park’s senior housekeeper not once have the children asked for any such thing. Paxton would only blanch at the thought, Penelope would roll her eyes as she always does, and Pria would take a small bite before spitting it out like a baby bird. But when the youngest Park randomly asks for vegan pancakes in the morning, well…it’s practically impossible to say no _that_ face. So Ida ignores the confused looks that their chefs throw her way, just snaps at them to get on with it.

 

That always does the trick.

 

The table’s already set for breakfast when Paxton and Pria walk in hand-in-hand. Today, it’s an assortment of their favorites: among the mahogany brimming with food is a variety of eggs cooked in three different ways, a plate of hash browns, regular pancakes, waffles, a fruit bowl, and Ida’s world-famous corned beef. It’s a whole feast of sweets and spoils that she can only get away with every time the kids’ parents were out of the country.

 

Though she's used to the reaction, Ida still allows herself a slight victorious smile when Pria all but gasps at the sight and jumps on one of the chairs like it’s Christmas morning.

 

“You’ve outdone yourself, Ida” Paxton nods her way before sitting at the head of the table like he always does when his mother’s away.

 

“Thank you, sir,” she responds, as she takes the batch of fluffy healthy pancakes from a cook. She gingerly places it on the spot right next to the two before Paxton quickly moves to grab a piece. Ida isn’t at all surprised when Pria swats her brother’s hand away before he can even touch.

 

“Ow, what was that for?”

 

“Those aren’t for you,” the eight-year-old scolds, entirely looking like an angry tiny bear cub.

 

“I doubt you’ll like them anyway, sir.” Ida chimes in, hands clasped behind her back. “They’re vegan.”

 

Paxton retracts his hand as expected, scrunches his nose in confusion. “Why?”

 

The answer to his question comes in the form of his younger sister and a sheepish, tall brunette entering the dining room. She can’t place a name but she’s sure she’s seen the girl before.

 

“Jesus, Ida where’s the party?” Penelope asks, ushering the tall girl beside her beneath the small of her back. Ida can’t help but quirk an intrigued brow, not at the question, but at the seemingly inconsequential gesture. As a child, Penelope had never been keen on physical touch, not with her own parents, her classmates from prep school, her brother, and especially not with strangers—Pria, being the only exception, of course. Yet here was this strange girl Ida had never met, though looked vaguely familiar, exchanging whispers, and shy touches with the most touch-aloof Park child, all in the span of them taking their seats beside each other at the table.

 

She’s certain it’s the first time a guest has even joined their family for breakfast.

 

It’s then that she’s forced to examine the brunette. She has a gentle, kind face. _Maamo_ , as they’d say in her native tongue, and though her tired brown eyes look like they’ve drowned out a thousand _barangays,_ they continue to regard Penelope with a word she can only describe in Filipino: _pagkahumaling._ It’s not the same in English—an extreme fondness maybe, a look of adoration, of something close to respectful want, of a love that hasn’t quite realized it yet. Some may say she’s jumping to conclusions based on a throwaway glance, but really though, the green, worn out hoodie she was wearing—Penelope’s favorite piece of clothing—all but gives it away.

 

It’s almost comical to Ida that she deduces all this from the girl’s stare, all while Penelope simply mentions the vegan pancakes they had made just for her, as she places two pieces on the brunette’s plate.

 

Pria’s already unceremoniously scarfing down on her own, unperturbed by their guest, when Paxton finally speaks up. “Didn’t know we'd have a guest this morning, Penny,“ he says, after having watched the pair with an amused face for the past 20 seconds.

 

“Jojo surprised Penny for her birthday last night,” the littlest Park provides in between chewing her food.

 

“Pria, what did we say about talking with your mouth full?” Ida stoically reminds.

 

Pria turns back to her, embarrassed and rushing to break down her food. “Sorry, Ida”

 

When the siblings finish snickering at their youngest sister’s antiques, Paxton doesn’t miss a beat in returning his attention to the two girls sat at his right.

 

“What kind of surprise was it exactly?” He seals the question with a wiggle of his brows, and she wants to hit the boy over the head with her shoe when she sees the brunette’s ears turn an alarming shade of pink. Maybe she will later.

 

“None of your business, Paxton,” Penelope replies with a tight smile.

 

To Ida’s surprise, the normally inappropriate boy lets it go easily with a shrug of his shoulders and a faint, knowing smile before he takes a bite off his hash brown. Perhaps this move to Belgium did help him mature after all.

 

“I am sorry though, if I’m interrupting your morning unannounced,” the girl (Jojo, was it?) says, peaking an unsure glance at Penelope. “I didn’t mean to…”

 

“Jojo, it’s fine.” She can’t see it, but she’s sure Penelope places a calming hand on the other girl’s bare thigh, can easily tell so when the shorts-clad girl’s attention is suddenly drawn to her leg, her features looking like a panic attack waiting to happen. Penelope doesn’t notice of course, as she trains her piercing green orbs to shoot threatening daggers at her brother, instead. “Right Paxton?”

 

“What? Oh yeah, no, of course. Lovely to have you here, Josie.” he takes a drink of his water before finishing his thought. “We’ve waited long enough.”

 

“Paxton…” Penelope warns through gritted teeth and a faux grin.

 

“I’m joking,” he half-raises his arms in ceasefire. “Geez, what a protective girl…” he stops in his tracks when Penelope’s eyes widen in yet another silent warning. “…friend. Like a friend that’s a girl, because you two are just friends…apparently...” Paxton finishes with a nervous chuckle, faces down and grants full attention on his food.

 

Confident and graceful as they are in appearances, these siblings are nothing if not bumbling messes around the people that mattered most to them. It amuses Ida to no end.

 

She observes as Penelope whispers an apology, lips brushing ever so slightly along her friend’s ear, can clock the brunette trying to quell her oddly parched lips, from where she stands. The taller girl swallows and recovers impressively fast. “It’s okay, Pen.”

 

And because she knows Pria’s reactionary traits so well, she clocks the young one’s ears perk up at the nickname. Penelope’s never liked it, even remembers setting one of her mom’s colleagues on fire when he had insisted on the name, at the tender age of 13. Obviously, that wasn’t the case here. Ida can practically feel Pria oozing with excitement as she swings her little legs that can’t quite reach the floor. You can read the internal squeals on her grinning face while she mutters excitedly under her breath, “I knew it!”

 

But of course, Penelope and her guest are too caught up in their own world to even notice. Ida’s almost certain they’re holding hands beneath the table now. How else can you explain both girls only using their forks to eat?

 

“Ida!” She snaps out of her thoughts when Pria conspiratorially calls her over in a not so subtle whisper-shout. She draws close to the young girl and leans down to level her ear with Pria’s mouth.

 

“Yes, Pri?”

 

“I need to tell you a secret?” she thinks she’s slick, cupping her hands around her lips and speaking in her breathy, pancake voice. But it seems she’s way too excited about her discovery to properly keep it down. Ida glances up once, doesn’t tell Pria that everyone in the room can hear her and are all already anticipating her surreptitious revelation meant only for the senior housekeeper.

 

“Penny let Jojo call her the forbidden name. You know what that means?” she shakes her head, showing the child just how engrossed she is at her realization. Pria giggles at that, quite positive her next words are worth more than gold. “They’re getting married!”

 

Ida hears Paxton almost choke on his water. When she looks up, Penelope’s face is flushed, like a deer caught in the headlights, mouth slightly agape, while Josie has her head low. The pink from her ears earlier have seeped onto the rest of her cheeks, though there’s no hiding the slight smile on the brunette’s red face.

 

She wants to save them the awkward trouble. So, she looks to Pria with upturned lips, says “If you say so, darling,” and quickly runs her hand through the little girl’s long raven hair, before quietly returning to her spot as if nothing had happened.

 

And Ida barely knows the girl, can’t tell just yet if she likes her for Penelope the way she approves of Paxton’s boyfriend back in the U.S., but the fact doesn’t escape her keen observation skills: while the two girls can barely look at each other for the rest of breakfast, they keep their hands intertwined beneath the table, all the same.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ida brings refreshments to Penelope’s room at exactly 11am, she doesn’t expect Josie to be sitting alone outside the balcony, lost in thought and tugging at the too short sleeves of her hoodie. She clears her throat to keep from startling the girl.

 

Josie greets her with a pretty, warm smile, and Ida always knew Penelope would end up falling for the human incarnation of sunshine. Just what she needs.

 

“Hi, you’re Ida right? Pen used to talk about you sometimes. She’s just in the shower.”

 

Ida nods, places the tray of lemonade juice on the round table. Her tenor at this job has afforded her with the privilege to choose not to engage in unnecessary small talk. Something Josie clearly doesn’t register.

 

“Sorry, I’m…”

 

“Jojo, was it?”

 

“Josie’s good, please.”

 

“My apologies,” Ida infers they both have a thing for possessive nicknames. Cute.

 

Ida's ready to leave but when Josie awkwardly waits for her to say more, the maid supposes she has no choice but to entertain the girl until Penelope comes back. “I recognize you as the girl on Miss Penelope’s photos.”

 

“Her photos?”

 

“The ones stuck on her dresser. Brought all the same ones from their house in New Orleans to here. I clean it on occasion.”

 

“Oh,” she squeaks, attempting a peek inside the room, as if only becoming aware of the dresser’s presence. She thinks, maybe Josie would want to look at it now, and prepares for her exit.

 

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be on my way.” Ida turns on her heel to leave but doesn’t get close enough to the door before Josie’s shuffling off her seat and asking her to wait.

 

“Could you um, please come back here for a second,” she says it lowly in a shy tone. Ida’s too intrigued not to walk back outside the balcony.

 

The brunette stands before her, unsure fingers fidgeting in front of her. “I um…this is going to sound really weird and I know we just met but could I ask you for a favor?”

 

“Does this include Pria and her paper cranes? Because I already have the entire house staff working on them.”

 

“What? No. I mean…I’m helping out too. I kind of promised her. But no,” she says rubbing the back of her neck. “I was wondering if you could maybe…I don’t know….teach me how to cook Pen’s favorite food?”

 

Ida’s completely caught off guard to say the least. She’s never been asked this question, not even Paxton’s boyfriend has asked to learn his favorite dishes. Then again, Penelope’s taste was far more sophisticated than the older boy who’d be more than satisfied with a plate of chicken wings and barbecue sauce. It takes her a while to collect herself that Josie ends up anxiously rambling again.

 

“Only if you’re okay with it though? I’m not asking you to actually teach me because I can’t do that without Pen finding out, obviously. Maybe just the recipe? I mean I know what her favorite food are it’s just…I’m not much of a cook if I don’t have something to follow. I’m not dull or anything, I’m like the top student at our school. Just not really a pro at cooking, you know. Unless her favorite food involves like a super special secret recipe that was handed down from generation to generation in your family, ‘cause some of them really sound like they do, then that’s fine, I totally understand…”

 

“Miss Josie.”

 

Josie inhales one long breath to make up for all the air she just lost. “Sorry. Yeah?”

 

“Are you and Miss Penelope leaving?”

 

Josie blinks dazed at the change of topic. “Oh yes, we’re having lunch at my mom’s place at around 12:30.”

 

Ida nods, gives her a reassuring smile to ease her misplaced nerves. “I’ll compile the easy ones in a small notebook that you may pocket, and hand it to you before you leave.”

 

“Seriously?” Josie breaks out into a blinding grin and Ida thinks she wouldn’t mind this girl putting a smile on Penelope’s face every chance she gets. “Thank you so much.”

 

“Of course,” she nods then and turns before the brunette can suck her back into another round of her chatter. She glances at the wall clock when she reaches the door, realizes something important.

 

“Miss Josie,” she calls out. The taller girl turns to her expectantly. “Thank you as well.”

 

Josie knits her brows. “For what?”

 

“Miss Penelope usually locks herself up at the library at exactly this hour. She has to be forced to step out for lunch. I don’t know what you did but it’s good to see her actually living her life, for once.”

 

There’s a palpable shift to Josie’s expression, a sad, guilty look that Ida would rather not intrude in. “Excuse me,“ she leaves the girl to her thoughts as she closes the door behind her.

 

…

 

As promised, Ida cramps at least six recipes into a tiny, miniature-sized notebook within the span of a good 15 minutes.

 

She makes quick work of heading back to Penelope’s room to quietly hand it to Josie, but when she pushes the door open ever so slightly, it seems the two are already dressed and ready to go. Though they’re standing out the balcony, still, foot to foot, whispering about something—like they always seem to be doing—despite being in the closed quarters of Penelope’s room. As if they’ve carefully crafted a world that’s entirely their own.

 

Penelope has her hands on either side of the brunette’s waist, while Josie brings up her fingers to brush over the wound on Penelope’s brow—the one she stubbornly keeps on forgetting to patch up.  The raven-haired flinches slightly at the touch. And Ida has only met two or three siphons in her life, but she can easily recognize when they’re drawing magic into their finger-tips.

 

Josie reaches for the tray on the table when her hand starts to glow red. She gingerly traces her other hand over Penelope’s cut again, healing it with a spell. All while the raven-haired watches the focused girl with a fond twinkle in her eye, one Ida’s never seen Penelope wear before in her 17 years of taking care of the girl. It’s filled with disbelieving wonder, as if she still can’t quite grasp how the angel-face with gentle eyes, and gentler hands, was in front of her at that very moment.

 

The scene feels too intimate that Ida feels like she’s invading on something secret. She decides to place the tiny notebook by the foot of the door, spelling it so only Josie can see it.

 

She slowly and quietly closes the door, making sure to make no sound. The last thing she sees are the girls caught in a forehead touch, Josie caressing Penelope’s cheeks in her hands, as if her face were made of fragile glass.

 

As Ida returns to her to daily duties, she wonders how long they can keep the friend act for, or if they were even trying at this point.  

 

She also accepts the fact that maybe she was wrong. Maybe _pagkahumaling_ isn’t the word. Maybe what the two girls have has already surpassed that almost-kind-of-love trapped within her native tongue’s limits.

 

Although if she had a term for what Penelope and Josie had—a love that’s nervous, and scared, but wholly there and fighting for—well, she hasn’t quite found it yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Song lyrics from Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson
> 
> Expect the official next chapter this coming weekend.
> 
> P.S. totally nothing against vegans and their lifestyle. I respect it and admire it. All are purely from the characters' perspective.
> 
> Come talk to me on twitter @brigantariksas


	14. We're in a maze with no end, but I'm amazed to no end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big mood by the last scene: https://open.spotify.com/track/6tv9CzrMUHQFrm9VHHO1hv

**CHAPTER 12 –** **We're in a maze with no end, but I'm amazed to no end.**

 

Lizzie likes to fuss. Over Christmas dinners, and family gatherings, and school elections, and cute boys. It’s her thing. Caroline shouldn’t be surprised, as they finish setting up for lunch 30 minutes later, when she finds her hovering over the dinner table, arranging and re-arranging the cutlery as if they were having a seven-course meal, or when she takes a whiff of the food 10 ten times like leaving it for a solid five minutes would somehow cause it to spoil, or when she’s restlessly giving herself a once-over every time she passes the full body mirror hung in the living room for more times than Caroline can keep track of. It was all normal and good but the thing is, they weren’t having their extended family of non-family over, nor were they expecting a cute boy around. No, Josie was bringing over Penelope Park. The same girl Lizzie had complained about non-stop for the last few years. So, she doesn’t understand this bouncing energy almost akin to panic.

 

It’s when Lizzie smooths down her perfectly ironed patterned trousers for what Caroline guesses must be the 74thtime, that she decides to butt in like the concerned mom that she is.

 

“Honey, calm down. It’s just Penelope,” she sounds off from the couch.

 

Lizzie scoffs, rolls her eyes. “I’m being forced to act nice towards Satan. I’ll be dying inside, but at least I’ll look the part.”

 

The older blonde bites down a pitying smile, because Lizzie’s lying. She’s not being forced to do anything. She remembers it clear as day. How could she not? That afternoon of spilled secrets and stunned twins right on a porch by a windy field in Waterloo. It wasn’t Josie who had first said something. No, Josie was too busy breathing heavily and trying hard not to have a full on breakdown. Instead, it was Lizzie with the immediate opiniong. All bewildered blue eyes, and clenching-unclenching jaw.

 

“Idiot,” she’d muttered under her breath, “What an idiot!”

 

And the words aren’t kind, but it’s the way she’d let them out, shaking and pained that had given away her worry, her fear for this girl she’d never traded anything with but pure animosity and bitchy banter.

 

Caroline would point it out. Tell her that it’s ok to suddenly care about Penelope Park and her well-being, after last week’s revelations, but she supposes now’s not the time to pick at her daughter’s poorly-kept pride.

 

So, she just lets her fuss some more.

 

…

 

When Caroline opens the door to Josie and Penelope laughing at a joke meant only for the two of them, not 15 minutes later, she has to stop herself from the reflex question at the sight. Because Penelope’s all spruced up in a half-undone navy button-down, matching ankle-length trousers and three-inch heels, while Josie looks, well…cozy. She’s in a pair of grey sweatpants that don’t quite reach her ankles, and a green hoodie with sleeves ending right above her wrists.

 

Not that it matters to her anyway, but to her credit, Josie rushes inside, embarrassed and fully intending on an outfit overhaul after placing a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek.

 

Penelope just shrugs it off.

 

“She says my nice clothes are too small for her.”

 

“Oh, well that makes sense,” the blonde says, stepping aside to let Penelope in. There’s an awkward silence when she does. One Penelope ceremoniously breaks with an annoyed huff, somehow already aware of Caroline’s burning questions.

 

“Shoot,” she gestures, finger-guns and all. The vampire grins, because while she’s yet to get privy with the events of last night, part of her is already mentally preparing her emotional speech for Josie and Penelope’s wedding.

 

“How’s the—” she subtly traces a line down her own ribcage.

 

“Better last night.”

 

“And Josie?” Caroline asks in a whisper.

 

“…still doesn’t know.”

 

“And you _and_ Josie?”

 

She knew it was coming, but it takes Penelope a second to speak up before she shrugs her shoulders again in supplement to her answer, “Maybe you should ask my _friend_ that.”

 

“Seriously?” Caroline groans in frustration because _goddammit,_ she already had an award-winning, mother-of-the-bride toast prepared and everything. She doesn’t get to frighten Penelope with the details though, when Lizzie enters the living room, her face masked in a concerning calm.

 

“Satan,” she greets, arms crossed.

 

“Nice to see you too, Lizzie,” Penelope flashes her a cheeky smile. And then there’s a tense stare-down for a beat, as Caroline whips her head between both girls like a tennis match. She’s about to cut through the deafening silence when Lizzie clears her throat, painstakingly drags one arm from her chest, and offers it to Penelope.

 

The raven-haired witch only blinks at the outstretched hand, utterly perplexed. “What’s that for?”

 

“Oh, just take it, will you!” Lizzie hisses, looking near on the verge of death if she has to endure this any longer. Penelope registers this, goes to save them both the awkwardness by awkwardly shaking the blonde’s hand precisely two times like they’re closing a business deal.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Lizzie observes more than taunts, as she drops her arm. “But you’re an idiot for my sister so, I guess you’re okay…for now.” Then she’s turning back around, hair flipping as she goes before she disappears into the kitchen.

 

“What just happened?”

 

Caroline leans in, wholly amused. “That was her being nice to you.”

 

Penelope scrunches her nose. The one Josie likes to gush about. “Really?”

 

The blonde only nods, “…or something.”

 

Penelope doesn’t ask more than that, just settles for the sliver of _something_ before they’re being called by the blonde twin for lunch.

 

….

 

Josie cleans up well in a dainty yellow sundress, brown locks falling over her shoulders in waves. Caroline takes a bite off her plate to keep from teasing Penelope about how she visibly loses her breath at the sight of her daughter.

 

“Oh good, you haven’t killed each other yet,” Josie comments, actually relieved to see Lizzie and Penelope peacefully sitting across the dinner table like normal people.

 

“Anything for you, dear sister,” a comical tight twitch that Caroline supposes should resemble a smile, appears on Lizzie’s face. Josie shakes her head fondly at that, knows being civil is as far as Lizzie can go for now. It’s a process.

 

She goes to sit next to Penelope, but before she does, she lifts up her chair and sticks it together with the other girl’s seat so when she takes her place, they’re literally shoulder-to-shoulder. The two girls move unbothered, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if Caroline should have sat glued next to Elena and Bonnie whenever they had lunch back in high school, because apparently, that’s just how friends are supposed to act.

 

Leave it to Josie to still be completely in denial. Caroline swears if only it were legal and plausible to lock them in a room together until they finally confess their undying love for each other, she would have already done it by now.

 

“Pen, you have to try mom’s mac and cheese. It’s the best,” the brunette reaches over for the dish, and scoops a spoonful onto Penelope’s plate. The snapshot of a moment is exactly how the rest of their meal goes: with the two girls existing inside each other’s spaces like nothing and no one else mattered. Caroline takes no offense. She gets it, the way love is all-consuming even when you aren’t aware of it yet.

 

The rest of their lunch goes off without a hitch. They small talk about the weather, and the difference between Salvatore and Penelope’s new school, about Pria and her cranes, even Ida and how scared Caroline is of her. They don’t deign to ask or bring up last night when Josie rushed out their apartment like a soldier on a mission, nor do they mention the witch, or Penelope risking her life for the past six months for the twins, or Josie and Lizzie’s flight back to Mystic Falls in three days. She’s not even sure if Penelope knew that much.

 

The lunch itself, Lizzie offering Penelope the last piece of chicken fillet, were quiet thank yous enough. That much was understood. Penelope was never one for hysterics or big parties. Caroline can respect that.

 

Besides, she doubts she can take her and Josie out of their friendship-induced bliss as of the moment, to discuss the serious stuff. Not when they’re laughing and sharing a small bowl of ice cream, and looking at each other like _that,_ and Caroline’s back to penning a wedding speech in her head.

 

Watching the domesticity of it all unfold doesn’t last long for Caroline when she gets a call from an old friend. She re-enters the dining room minutes later, asking Josie if she could borrow Penelope for a quick second, like the common courtesy you’d give a married couple.

 

“Is everything okay?” the brunette questions.

 

“Of course, I just need her to help me with the wine selection. She’s good at that.”

 

Josie’s expression turns from worried to soft in a snap, she can practically hear Lizzie roll her eyes from where she’s seated. “Yeah, she is.”

 

“I’ll be right back,” Caroline’s surprised when Penelope kisses the bare skin right on the spot between Josie’s neck and shoulder. She supposes it’s also a friend thing that they do, but the embarrassing redness that flushes onto Josie’s cheeks says otherwise.

 

She pats her daughter on the head, mouths at Lizzie to “Make sure she doesn’t hyperventilate,” before following Penelope into the kitchen.

 

…

 

She doesn’t mean to, given the gravity of the phone call, but she somehow still opens with “You sure you’re just friends?”

 

The witch sighs, leaning on the countertop. “I’m sure that’s what Josie wants. So, I’m respecting that. You should too.”

 

Caroline wonders how Penelope could be so exceedingly brilliant, and yet so unable to pick up on cues this badly. She has to remind herself it’s none of her business though, decides to let it go and allow the two to figure it out on their own.

 

“So, where’s the wine?”

 

“Wine?” Penelope arches a brow. “Oh, no. That was just a cover up.”

 

“For?”

 

Caroline peeks out the door to make sure the twins are nowhere in earshot before speaking lowly. “We know where she lives. Aster.”

 

“How?” Penelope inquires, standing a little straighter. Face all serious business.

 

“My friend has her ways. But listen, the only way that your…thing will—”

 

“What thing?” Josie’s suddenly standing by the doorway, brows knit at the two seemingly conspiring over something instead of picking out the best bottle of wine to drink.

 

The vampire starts to stutter out an explanation when Penelope swoops in and tries to remedy the situation, much to her own misfortune.

 

“The thing…” she starts. “My thing…for you.”

 

Caroline has absolutely no idea where she’s going with this. “Yes. Uhuh see, this one has a thing all planned out for you today…”

 

Penelope throws her an alarmed glance, but it’s too late to take it back now.

 

“It was meant to be a surprise…” the witch adds.

 

“But you just had to go barging in here, huh, Josie?” she stands akimbo, and sure, the two of them sound like bumbling idiots trying to wordlessly come up with Penelope’s supposed _thing,_  but it was working nonetheless, if Josie looking completely guilty for ruining the surprise were any indication.

 

“I’m sorry I was just worried, you know, and…carry on,” she squeaks before exiting the kitchen.

 

Both girls draw out heavy breaths when Josie’s gone.

 

“Maybe we should talk about it later,” the vampire suggests.

 

Penelope agrees with a distracted nod, no doubt particularly racking her brain for this supposed sudden _thing_ on her plate. Caroline can’t help but feel bad for putting her on the spot.

 

“So…what ‘thing’ are you gonna do for Josie?” she asks more in pure concern than anything. And ok, the glare the young witch sends her way is totally warranted.

 

Penelope squeezes the bridge of her nose, “Guess I’ll just have to make one up now. Why’d you have to give the stupid thing a time stamp?”

 

And she really shouldn’t but Caroline grins despite herself at her next statement. “Come on, how hard can it be to whip up an impromptu friendship date out of thin air?”

 

If a smile could be threateningly scary and ominous, she thinks Penelope Park has that one in the bag. “I don’t know. But it looks like I’m finding out today, Ms. Forbes.”

 

* * *

 

Apparently, the answer to Caroline’s questions was: head-tearingly hard. Especially when Penelope’s barely explored the city for leisure herself, too caught up in school, and her research, and abandoned buildings, or eerily sketchy suburbias to allow herself any place else.

 

“I can’t believe Lizzie was actually nice to you,” Josie says, seemingly unaware of the scrambling in Penelope’s brain as she drives them around in her Benz, supposedly taking Josie to that ‘thing’ she had so meticulously planned.

 

“Correction,” Penelope answers, just managing to pull herself out of her panic, “she said I was ‘okay.’ I’m pretty sure she likes me now.”

 

Josie laughs at that before a silent beat follows as Penelope discreetly surveys the establishments they pass by, hoping for any kind of reprieve to answer her predicament.

 

The brunette clears her throat after a few minutes, over the soft sounds of a song playing on the radio. She guesses it’s called ‘[Pieces](https://open.spotify.com/track/2DHDuADAHoUW6n0z80RLQF?si=4ZoO0EN2QE26I1fZ7aMNPw) _’,_ with the way the word puts a definite end to the chorus every time.

 

She looks to Penelope pensively when the last notes of the song come to a close, shaking her head when the other girl’s focus remains on the road ahead of them.

 

“You know, Pen. You can tell me whatever this ‘thing’ is actually about.”

 

“Yeah but I’m showing it to you instead. Patience, my love,” she’s fully aware of the nickname, hoping to catch Josie off-guard because of course, her brilliant girl was already catching on.

 

“Please, you can’t expect me to believe that you managed to come up with a big surprise date just this morning.”

 

“Oh, so it’s a _date_ date now, is it?” she continues to tease. It works for a bit, but Josie’s not having any of it.

 

“I—you know what I mean.”

 

“I do. And I can’t believe you’re questioning my ability to come up with a surprise ‘thing’ that will absolutely woo you off your feet.”

 

Josie rolls her eyes. “I’d deem you the queen of surprise ‘things’ then.”

                                                                                            

“Are you sure you’re ready to call me Your Royal Highness—”

 

“Okay fine, shut up and just take me there.”

 

It’s then that an idea clicks. ‘There’, now being the one place that pops into Penelope’s head where she _knows_ she can make this impromptu ‘thing’ work.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

“This is your big surprise? You took me to your school?”

 

Josie laughs, no complaints or marks of teasing in her tone as she looks up at the Victorian building of stone and brick looming before them.

 

“Okay so it looks like a haunted castle, but don’t judge a book by its cover,” Penelope defends, appearing next to Josie.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, Pen. It’s beautiful but what’s so exciting about it?”

 

“You’ll see. Just trust me.”

 

Penelope gives her that self-assured cocky smirk that Josie both despises and adores, and she wonders how Penelope doesn’t know that she’d literally follow the shorter girl to freaking Antarctica if she asked. For now, though, instead of giving Penelope all that power back by letting her in on that one helpless fact, Josie just takes the hand being offered to her, intertwines them as they explore the empty building.

 

…

 

Penelope gives her a quick sweeping tour of the place; which Josie can’t help but compare to a mini Hogwarts castle. Walking hand-in-hand, she takes her to the empty classrooms, the drawing rooms decked out in fine purple velvet furniture, the school gym which Penelope so patronizingly points out allows for a fencing P.E. class, to the kitchen, and the field where they have their own version of Wickery—as even on the other side of the world, flying brooms have been proven to be quite the hazard.

 

But Josie’s favorite has definitely got to be the lake behind the school grounds. It’s peaceful, sparkling turquoise clear, and apparently is the home to a few overly friendly mermaids with eccentric colorful hair. Two of which (one blue-haired and one red-haired) rise up from the surface at the sounds of their feet plodding on manicured grass.

 

They glow instantly when they see Penelope. Josie can relate.

 

“Penelope Park! Is school back yet?” the red-haired asks sporting a full grin as her and Penelope sit down to meet them.

 

“Hey, ladies. Sorry, just decided to tour my friend here, around.”

 

The mermaids train their attention on Josie, both raking their amphibian eyes up and down, only to end up with one conclusion in unison in this entrancing sing-song voice.

 

“Oh, she’s gorgeous.”

 

Josie reddens at the compliment, tries to appear cooler by answering with something of her own. “You both are too.”

 

Both girls snicker as if they’d heard that one before.

 

Then, the blue-haired mermaid turns back to them, examining her and Penelope with intrigued, squinted eyes.

 

She draws closer to Josie, water sloshing along to her tiny movement, “Careful there, love. Don’t go falling for this one now like the rest of the school. She’s already taken.”

 

Josie almost falls off the lake in shock because, _What?!_

 

“She is?” she manages to calmly say instead, eyebrow rising way up her hairline.

 

“Totally, utterly, madly, completely,” the two mermaids say, exchanging turns. Penelope groans, attempts to utter a protest but the mermaids are too loud and animated to care.

 

“By this girl from the Americas 4000 miles away.”

 

“She comes here to sulk sometimes.”

 

Then, they say together again, “It’s all very sad.”

 

“No one stands a chance.”

 

And then Josie understands. She feels so dumb for the jealousy that had bubbled up her chest, that she wants to set herself on fire. Because there’s no other girl in ‘the Americas’

 

The said girl was _her_. Or at least she hopes it is.

 

“Well, with a face like that, I’m sure that girl from America’s been sulking just as much too.” Josie says, trying hard not to catch the shocked expression Penelope throws her away.

 

The two mermaids gasp in unison, as if realizing something then. They turn to each other with a mischievous glint in their gazes before the red-haired speaks with a knowing smirk.

 

“Come now. I think we should give Penelope and her _friend_ some privacy.”

 

They don’t even give them a chance to say good bye before they’re giggling away, diving deep back into the lake.

 

The whole interaction feels like a fever dream.

 

Later on, Penelope asks her to ignore whatever they’d said, and Josie complies because that comment she made about the girl from America sulking all the same for the past 6 months was humiliatingly true as well.

 

* * *

 

 “Ready for the main event?” Penelope asks when they’re back inside the castle, standing in front of two ceiling-high double doors. Josie’s suddenly excited she can feel a tingling of magic in her finger tips, as she nods her head.

 

Penelope places a hand on one of the doors, spells it open. The size and weight of it makes it creak in its wake as it swings back. She gestures for Josie to enter the room before her.

 

“It’s…a big empty room,” Josie notes, trying not to sound too disappointed at the white empty expanse of a dome she’d stepped into.

 

“Pretty though,” she attempts to save with a smile.

 

Penelope snickers, unfazed by Josie’s mediocre reaction. “It’s a multi-purpose hall.  We mostly use it as an auditorium. The seats rise up from the flooring,” Penelope walks to the middle of the room, taps at the purple carpeted floor with her heel.

 

“My favorite thing about it though, is when we use it for Astronomy class.”

 

Penelope snaps her fingers, purple sparks jumping off them as the entire room suddenly turns dark, the only light coming from the domed-ceiling that’s now projecting images of the night sky. Then it zooms back out into the clouds, into space, and into a seemingly live image of the Milky Way, stars, and planets, floating overhead. It’s a river-mouth of light and space so close to the touch that the hairs on the back of Josie’s neck stand up.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Penelope looks up proudly, gathers the magic of the room in a sweeping motion with her arms.

 

“Welcome to our very own planetarium.”

 

“Pen,” Josie breathes out, “this is beautiful.”

 

Their eyes meet, and for a moment all they do is stare, Josie committing the soft smile Penelope has reserved only for her into memory while the flash of a shooting star zooms past.

 

“It is.” Penelope says softly, full attention on Josie. Josie doesn’t know how the shorter girl does it. There’s so much empty space surrounding them yet somehow the girl in front of her still manages to take up the entire room.

 

“Come here,” Penelope motions for the brunette to move close.

 

Minutes later, they’re laying down side by side at the center of the auditorium, backs comfortable on the soft velvet carpet, hands intertwined while they watch the world around them evolve and shift to vistas of nature, and vast stretches of space, all pink and purple and white and blue, all seemingly infinite and dizzying that she’s glad she has the warmth of Penelope’s hand to anchor her.

 

“It’s in default Big Bang mode.” Penelope says, breaking the silence.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It’s slowly showing us the rest of universe right now until it reaches its limit and has to rewind back to the Big Bang. If you don’t know how manipulate it with the right spell, which only the professors can do unfortunately, it’ll just replay the universe’s birth, how everything was made, over and over again.”

 

Penelope let’s out an annoyed breath. “We’re just nearing the end of another rotation. I’m sorry I don’t know how to show you all the good stuff yet but—"

 

She pauses, eyes widening in alarm, like she just remembered something important.

 

“Oh shit!”

 

“What?” Josie asks, squeezing her hand. She supposes though, that it’s not much of a big deal if Penelope can stay lying down on the floor with her.

 

“Do you, by any chance have that drawing I did at Pria’s art class?”

 

And _oh_.

 

Josie pretends to think about it for a few seconds.

 

“As a matter of fact…” she doesn’t miss a beat in reaching for the pocket of her leather jacket. Truth be told, she’d been carrying it all along with her ever since Penelope had given it at Arden’s house.

 

She brings out the worn-out piece of folded paper, a sheepish look crossing her face. It’s all worth it though at the blinding grin that overtakes Penelope’s features.

 

She looks up again, squeezing Josie’s hand back. “You can open it now.”

 

“But I said we’d open it with my drawing of you.”

 

“Well, do you have it?”

 

Josie pouts, “You didn’t tell me to bring it.”

 

Penelope laughs at the adorable sight, “It’s fine, Josie. It’s part of the ‘thing’. Please?”

 

Josie relents quicker than she should have. She unfolds the paper as best she can with her free hand, preparing herself to complain about whatever part of the drawing used up the all too important yellow crayon she’d asked to borrow.

 

“It’s a…” Josie frowns, confused. “You just colored the whole thing yellow.”

 

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Getting real tired of all your half-baked reactions, Jojo.”

 

“I’m sorry, but how is this supposed to be me?” she asks jokingly.

 

“It’s interpretative. Think of it as sunlight.”

 

Josie can’t stop the shit-eating grin plastered on her face at the implications. “So, you think I’m like the sun? Who knew Penelope Park could be such a cheeseball?”

 

The raven-haired gasps in mock offense, only further working to draw out the giant smile on Josie. “Hey, it goes deeper than that. You think I’m that simple-minded?”

 

Josie doesn’t answer, just shakes her head and stares back at her in challenge.

 

 “There’s this poem that I like…about the sun.”

 

The way Penelope’s voice suddenly drops causes a roiling sensation at the pit of the taller girl’s stomach. She tries to ignore it away with an indifferent answer.

 

“And?”

 

“You’re so impatient.”

 

“Sorry,” she tugs at Penelope’s hand in encouragement, “Go on.”

 

Penelope has a head filled with poems. Josie loves it, loves basking in this girl’s soothing voice as she calmly recollects rhyme and rhythm and words made with magic straight from memory.

 

Nothing’s changed in the past two years as she lovingly watches Penelope watching the stars slowly implode above them, when she finally recites the verses with glazed eyes.

 

_Set me where as the sun doth parch the green,_

_Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice;_

_In temperate heat where he is felt and seen;_

_With proud people, in presence sad and wise;_

_Set me in base, or yet in high degree,_

_In the long night, or in the shortest day,_

_In clear weather, or where mists thickest be,_

_In lost youth, or when my hairs be grey;_

_Set me in earth, in heaven, or yet in hell,_

_In hill, in dale, or in the foaming flood;_

_Thrall, or at large, alive where so I dwell,_

_Sick, or in health, in ill fame or good:_

_Yours will I be, and with that only thought_

_Comfort myself when that my hope is nought._

 

There’s a quiet beat where Penelope just lets Josie soak up the poem and what it could mean.

 

In the early periods of their relationship, Josie had fast learned that acting like she knew how to interpret the poems Penelope would read to her was completely useless. Given the fact that she barely really listened at all when she was too busy getting lost in the pure sonic sound of her. Not that Penelope cared. She could always tell, by the fond smile on her face whenever Josie had asked her to explain her poems, that the raven-haired enjoyed that part the most. She hadn’t realized how much she’s missed it.

 

“That sounds lovely, Pen. But not to seem uncultured and unworthy of your poetic prowess,” Penelope playfully tugs back at her hand at that, and Josie just lets out a faint giggle, “what does it mean?”

 

Penelope glances at Josie then back to the animated ceiling. She inhales a shaky breath before diving in.

 

“It means…you can take me anywhere you want. To earth, to heaven…hell. Make me anything you want. Satan, your evil ex, your friend.” She looks at Josie then, green and brown meeting under a listless silver sky. The sun in the great distance, dying in the light of a rising moon, as she confesses her next words wrapped in solemnity.

 

“It doesn’t matter, because I’ll still only ever be yours, Josie Saltzman.”

 

She says it so softly and earnestly that Josie, for the life of her, feels like a parched desert on the verge of an ocean arising, unworthy of this great certainty awaiting her just a breath away.

 

She thinks it isn’t fair, because she was supposed to be the one sweeping Penelope off her feet, making her feel like an entire galaxy above them could never compare to the flecks of gold in her green eyes. So, she does the one thing Penelope ever so respectfully hasn’t yet, the thing she’d been dreaming of for months on end.

 

A nebula mutely explodes in the projected night sky as she closes the inch of a gap between them. Lips meeting lips, finally _finally,_ as she swallows Penelope’s breath when the other girl’s chest hitches in surprise.

 

As if on reflex Penelope settles all the same, remembers how to move with Josie, with Josie’s lips, soft and supple, and completely wanting on her own. The kiss that starts out is unhurried, slow and careful, and everything Josie had never expected their reunion to be like. It’s everything the brunette can only make up in her dreams.

 

However, all semblance of shy and careful is thrown away when Penelope’s tongue faintly brushes past her lips, and Josie has to ignore the embarrassment of how utterly eager she is to open up for this girl—for all the longing heat racing impatiently to meet and dance between their mouths, and all the shots of tingling warmth suddenly torturously and slowly, crawling like fireflies across Josie’s skin, pooling together one by one in the nerves between her legs.

 

For a moment, they forget the notion of time, of breathing, only aware of each other lips, craving and tasting the sweet wetness of it all.

 

Just as the astronomical simulation above them rolls back in reverse to the beginning of time, of nothing but nothing, does Penelope pull away, ever so slightly, as she rests their foreheads together. Her eyes are seas of blown and bright, and disbelieving and Josie’s sure they’re mimicking her own. For a few seconds all they do is exchange heavy breaths, lips still attached in that feather of a distance.

 

“Please don’t tell me friends make out too,” Penelope just manages to joke, eliciting a giggle out of Josie.

 

“Shut up.”

 

There’s a flash on the black ceiling atop their bodies, and the beginning of time starts again.

 

As if signaled by the blinding light, they’re kissing once more. Josie pulls Penelope closer then. She wraps an arm around her waist until the other girl is pushing her onto her back, Penelope right on top of her, their lips never parting save for quick slivers of breaths in between.

 

This time, Penelope’s hands are restless but still respectful, finding their way from the back of Josie’s head, then down to her neck. It’s almost infuriating to Josie, the way they never go past her shoulders, when she wants them _everywhere, in every way_.

 

So, she takes matters into her own hands. Lips and mouths and teeth devouring, tongues acquainting and re-acquainting, she grabs Penelope’s hand and guides it down further south onto the skin beneath her dress. The other girl is hesitant at first, but when Josie’s silent demand is abundantly clear by the way she keeps Penelope’s hand firmly in place at the back of her, she obliges quickly, fingers moving down to caress the expanse of Josie’s leg, before slowly skimming back up, high enough to tease but never high enough to get to where Josie so desperately wants it to be.

 

She almost whines when Penelope detaches her lips from hers. Though her slight pout quickly dissipates into an open mouth when the raven-haired dips her head to start kissing every inch of Josie’s neck, then down to her shoulders, to the insides of her collarbones, and Josie really has to find a way to cope with the bundled energy throbbing beneath her.

 

She quickly untucks Penelope’s shirt, drags her fingers on the smooth skin of her back. The contact brings shivers up Penelope’s spine, and out of her trance on Josie’s neck, that it causes the shorter girl to move back up in unfettered want. She gently grasps the back of Josie’s neck before ceremoniously tasting all the words that have ever found their way inside and out of Josie’s mouth. The sudden burst of everything drives the brunette madly, and absolutely insane, as she attempts to messily consume all the histories of Penelope’s lips for her own, as an answer.

 

And Josie’s aware that there’s literally no space left to fill that their clothed bodies haven’t already, but the very core of her pleads for more. Something Penelope’s obviously aware of when she feels the raven-haired’s signature smug smirk appearing against Josie’s, as her hips roll down, once, then twice on the taller girl’s, sending the fireflies between her into a wrecked frenzy.

 

It’s the burning movement that causes Penelope’s name to spill out in a desperate prayer from Josie’s throat, a reverent sound that the other girl swallows with her lips, saving the promise for soon.

Just not now.

 

Now, all they do is take in each other’s apologies, each other’s forgiveness. Mouths, and hands and skin worshipping the other, but just staying right on the brink of something holy as they wait for the universe to rearrange itself above them.

 

They make out for so long it’s as if they’re making up for all the time they had lost not kissing like this, like the birth of the world depended on it—their moans, and breathless sighs now familiar to every star that has ever formed in the galaxy.

 

They only finally part when both girls are truly and finally in desperate need of air.

 

Penelope lays back beside Josie, pulling the brunette to her side so she can bury her face and all her want on Penelope’s neck, arm wrapped tightly around the older girl’s waist.

 

Surrounding them, nothing but the sounds of their chests attempting to catch up with their racing hearts, and a universe completed anew, planets, stars, galaxies and all, aligned and floating right back where they should be.

 

It’s at that quiet moment when everything is on the buzz of settling, that the three words start to threaten up Josie’s throat. And it terrifies her just how fast they come, and how desperate they’re begging to run free.

 

“Pen‑“ she starts, voice audibly shaking.

 

But Penelope catches the shift in her breathing, catches the terror in all the possibilities that could break out if she admits it now, and the raven-haired just knows the other girl’s not fully ready for that yet.

 

So, she places her lips to Josie’s crown, as if to say,  _It’s ok. I can wait._

Josie buries her face deeper into Penelope, and the latter manages to mutter an “I know” before they drift into a blissful slumber under a reborn night sky, in the quiet afternoon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: song lyrics from "Around" by Niki.
> 
> The poem is Sonnet 8 by Henry Howard
> 
> Comments below are eternally appreciated.
> 
> Come talk to me on twitter @brigantariksas


	15. I won't be the one to let you go.

**CHAPTER 13 – I won’t be the one to let you go.**

Her nightmare starts out like this: darkness, a stuffy space, and the cold marble floor. An elevator gone wrong.

 

She’s lying down, body half-turned so she’s facing the person beside her. Penelope. Their faces are just a hair away that she feels the other girl’s breathing. It’s heavy, erratic. Her face is flushed, lungs fighting for air. One hand grips Josie’s, the other’s settled tightly atop her rib cage.

 

Then, she smiles, just a twitch of comfort in between pained, ragged breaths. Not for herself, but for Josie. And that’s how Josie knows Penelope’s dying.

 

“Stay with me,” Josie whispers. It’s desperate, echoes off the four walls of the stale elevator like the broken contraption’s mocking her.

 

“You’re okay, Pen. Just stay with me.” She squeezes her hand tighter, pulls it closer to her beating heart. “We’ll get help soon. I promise. They’re coming.” She’s not sure who _they_ are, or how they even got here, but it almost sounds like she’s trying to convince herself than anything else.

 

The brunette doesn’t even realize that she’s crying until she feels Penelope’s finger graze at a tear on her neck.

 

Penelope’s pale lips start moving. She’s trying to say something, but her truncated chest barely lets her push any words out. Still, Josie hears it anyway, just one breath and a smile.

 

“Sing.”

 

“Sing?” She makes sure. Penelope nods.

 

“Okay. I’ll sing for you. Anything. Anything you want,” Josie scrambles closer, as much as space permits. She caresses Penelope’s cheek with her other hand, where the shorter girl’s burning up like a house fire.

 

Then, she starts to sing, whispers the chorus to their favorite Frank Sinatra song like a well-kept secret. It’s slow and stifled. She’s barely in tune with her own lungs betraying her. Not because she can’t breathe, but because her voice is equal parts half song and half tears, with just a pinch of laughter for a second or two to match Penelope’s, before the latter’s attempting to outrun the war in her chest again.

 

“I can’t remember the rest of the song, Pen,” Josie squeezes Penelope’s hand again, can feel her grip loosening against her own. “You have to sing it with me.”

 

For an agonizing second Penelope tries. It’s the slowest two seconds of Josie’s life. She tries to force her lips to do something other than tremble, but nothing comes of it except for a sad smile as her breathing falls shallow.

 

Josie thinks she hears her say something close to “I’m sorry,” but she can’t be sure. Can’t be sure because all she can focus on are Penelope’s slowly closing eyes, on her own voice begging the raven-haired to keep them open, on the hand that goes limp in her own.

 

And Josie doesn’t know what dying feels like—but watching helplessly as the love of her life goes completely still and silent before her—the brunette’s sure this must be it.

 

* * *

 

Josie’s pushed forward up into a cold sweat. It’s as if the whole world takes time to come in focus while she gets her breathing in tow.

 

The first thing she notices are the remnants of an orange setting sun filtering inside the dark room. The second, she’s alone in an empty bed. The third, how her lungs start to fill with dread, remembering that she’d fallen asleep beside Penelope, how they’d gone straight home from their little adventure and wanted nothing but to indulge in the simple joy of a nap beside each other.

 

Before she knows it, her legs are moving off the bed with a dull panicked energy.

 

When she enters the living room to no one in sight, she wants to start yelling Penelope’s name, but the words are stuck in her throat. For a moment everything slows, and Josie just stands there in the middle of the deserted room, with only the sound of her labored breathing.

 

It takes her a while, but she eventually snaps back into reality. She moves back to open the thin kitchen door, finds the girl in question there standing by the counter.

 

Penelope’s humming a tune while reading a book, green eyes skimming the page, alive and well.

 

Josie’s stands still by the doorway, allows herself to take in the gentle view. She revels in the fact that all it takes is the mundane sight of this extraordinary girl to center her senses into a complete calm.

 

When Penelope finally looks up at her, the involuntary smile that always graces her face upon seeing Josie immediately falls into worry.

 

“Josie, what’s wrong?” She asks, closing the book she’s reading.

 

Without even thinking about it, the brunette runs the short distance to round the counter, and all but tackles Penelope in a tight embrace. She buries her head in Penelope’s neck, holds her like life support while the shorter girl keeps her arms tight around Josie’s waist. She’s never felt safer.

 

“Hey,” Penelope starts softly, her nose brushing against the brunette’s ear. “You’re not already regretting kissing me, are you?”

 

Penelope tries to hide it with a chuckle, but Josie knows, just by the tone in the other girl’s voice, that half of her has grown insecure enough to mean that question.

 

She pulls back from their hug just the slightest to look Penelope in the eyes. She’s greeted with a patient smile and an adorable head tilt that’s enough to make Josie surge forward and kiss the other girl senseless.

 

Penelope isn’t surprised this time, just moves her lips against Josie’s with the same vigor as the brunette’s unbridled enthusiasm, letting Josie’s body pin her between the counter.

 

Unlike the one in the planetarium, this kiss is all fiery desperation, graceless in the way Josie’s skin burns for more every time their tongues meet like prized fighters.

 

Penelope’s fingers find their way beneath the inside of Josie’s shirt, and the small contact causes the brunette to nip at Penelope’s lip in surprise, hips canting forward at the exact moment that her mouth dives back into the farthest depths of Penelope’s own. The sound that escapes the smaller girl’s throat is wholly inappropriate given the fact that they were currently full on making out in Josie’s mother’s kitchen. 

 

Penelope masks the thought, distracts herself by sucking hard on Josie’s lower lip, catching the brunette off guard. The moan that follows is loud enough to sound like a sin they’ve yet to do, that both of them have to pull back for air.

 

“Does that feel like I regret anything?” Josie asks, watching in almost voyeuristic pleasure as Penelope catches her breath and regains her senses, mouth swollen, green eyes dazed in rapt attention on Josie’s lips.

 

“Not particularly.”

 

Unable to take the slight pause, they’re kissing again. And Josie’s sure they would have been content just standing there, hands beneath clothes, skin gripping skin, making out for lifetimes, if it weren’t for her twin almost declaring mock murder as she unfortunately enters the room.

 

“Mom, Satan’s defiling your daughter in the kitchen!”

 

The two girls jump apart at the sound. They turn around caught to a smug Lizzie standing akimbo by the doorway.

 

“Seriously? By the dinner table, where we eat? That’s too ironic, even for you, Park.” Lizzie says.

 

Much to Josie’s bewilderment the blonde looks more amused than anything else, before she’s turning around and out the kitchen as if she’d just won something.

 

“Don’t go in there. The kids are horny,” they hear Lizzie tell Caroline in the living room.

 

Penelope responds by laughing it off like a child, because of course. Josie, on the other hand, turns beet red, resting her head on the shorter girl’s shoulder like she could hide away from their mother if she does.

 

“Who knew Lizzie had a sense of humor?”

 

Josie answers with an annoyed groan, slapping Penelope lightly on the hip. “It’s not funny, Pen.”

 

“It kind of is, Jojo,” she whispers in answer onto Josie’s ear. It sends a new wave of shivers down her spine that she has to step away from Penelope before her mother can catch them going at it again for the third time. Her stupid body misses Penelope’s touch instantly, she has to intertwine both their hands to make up for the space she so unwillingly had to make between them.

 

It doesn’t help that despite the situation, Penelope continues to regard her like a warm sunset on a lazy day.

 

”You sure you’re okay?”

 

All Josie can do is nod, scared she just might break down for third time in front of Penelope if she even thinks about the nightmare. “Yeah, sorry. Just had a bad dream.”

 

“About what?” The shorter girl gently prods, squeezing both her hands.

 

“It’s not important.” She tries for a smile to reassure Penelope, would rather forget about her dream entirely.

 

Penelope studies her for a beat, searches for something in Josie’s face but quickly relents at the feel of Josie’s restless fingers in her hands.

 

“Okay, well, I have to go,” Penelope says instead, lifts the brunette’s right hand to kiss the back of it, never breaking eye contact.

 

“What, why?” She’s not proud of how panicked she sounds, but the fear of having Penelope anywhere far from her, where she can’t protect her, make sure she’s safe and breathing, creeps up on Josie.

 

“Your mom wants to go out for dinner,” Penelope wraps her arms around Josie’s neck, knows exactly what to do to calm her down even if she’s not quite sure where her unrest is coming from, “and I am not stepping into a fancy restaurant with wrinkly clothes, Josie.”

 

On instinct, the brunette presses their foreheads together, “Can’t you just borrow mine?”

 

Penelope chuckles at that, scrunches her nose, “We both know I can totally own the oversized look, but I’d rather not give your mom and Lizzie any more ideas by wearing your clothes tonight.”

 

“I’ll go with you then.”

 

“Josie, I’m only going home to change.”

 

She’s aware she sounds like a clingy, possessive girlfriend right now when they haven’t even talked about what they were, but she can’t help the need to constantly be by her side. Not after having watched the raven-haired die in her arms, even if it was only just a dream.

 

“Well….yeah, but, then we can go together—and…I won’t have to deal with mom and Lizzie alone.”

 

Penelope purses her lips, thinking it through.

 

“Please?”

 

“I guess you have a point,” She sighs, brings her hands down to teasingly pinch Josie’s sides. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

 

And no, no she can’t. But she’s not about to give Penelope the satisfaction even if she _had_ just practically thrown herself onto the other girl not 10 minutes ago.

 

Josie rolls her eyes, painstakingly pries herself away from Penelope’s arms. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

“I’ll get ready really quick.” She kisses Penelope on the cheek, eliciting a content hum from the other girl, before retreating back to her room.

 

* * *

 

Penelope leaves Josie with Paxton in the drawing room. They sit on opposite sofas before the coffee table while the older boy folds his 50thcrane of the day.

 

“How are we doing with those?” Josie asks.

 

“Just three hundred and fifty-six more.”

 

Josie surveys the room then, finds random cranes everywhere, peeking out of vases, on the foot of the sofa, there’s even one tucked inside the front pocket of Paxton’s shirt.  

 

“I can help.”

 

Paxton looks up, amused. “Pria said you were bad at this.”

 

“I’m not. I was just…busy when she taught me.”

 

The Parks’ signature smirk falls on Paxton’s lips. “Busy cuddling up to my other sister, I heard.”

 

The brunette tries to shrug it off, but her beet red face betrays her. “We weren’t…”

 

She’s cut off by a hearty laugh from the boy. “I’m just messing, Josie,” Paxton says before handing Josie a piece of paper from the stack on the table.

 

“Go crazy. Please. We need all the help we can get,” he leans over, whispers his next words. “Pria rounded up the house staff earlier. I’m scared the kid’s turning into a dictator.”

 

Josie mouths an “Oh my god,” as she and Paxton laugh off the atrocity. She imagines more moments like this with Penelope’s family.

 

The two fall into a comfortable silence when their giggles die down.

 

They’re five minutes into folding away in their little Pria-mandated bubble when Josie fills the room as she hums to the tune Penelope had played for her on the piano. She doesn’t notice Paxton’s head shoot up when he registers the song.

 

“How do you know that song?” Paxton tries to ask in the most off-handed way. Somehow, he already knows the answer.

 

Josie doesn’t think about the question, just continues on with her task. “Pen sang it to me once.”

 

The boy grins, big and bright like he’d just won a marathon. Somehow, he’s even more delighted at how oblivious Josie is, too focused on fulfilling his younger sister’s request.

 

“Guess Pria was right.”

 

“Hmm? Right about what?”

 

Paxton recommences folding, tries to pretend he’s not already thinking of ways to embarrass Penelope at her wedding.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Josie doesn’t have time to ponder over the cryptic answer because the loud crash from upstairs comes just a few seconds after. Her lungs fill with dread when Paxton jumps from his seat and runs up the stairs towards the direction of Penelope’s room.

 

Heart pounding, Josie follows suit right after, as her nightmare from earlier returns with a vengeance at the back of her mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute.
> 
> Come talk to me on Twitter @brigantariksas


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